Scotland, 990
Inhale. Exhale. Oh yes... this was far better than the noisy feasts of the castle.
The olive green, impish gargoyle reclined on the grass bed beneath him, his talons hanging off the edge of a steeply dropping hillside. A soft breeze tenderly massaged his scalp and cheek, the sea of tall grass becoming like the waves of a gentle ocean. The soft chirping of crickets to the occasionally distant hoot of an owl. He inhaled and exhaled once again... so peaceful...
"yyyyyyyyeeeeeeEEAAAAHHHHHHHH!-" A red streak of a flying gargoyle screeched past him with a burst of wind "WOOOOOOOHOOOHOOO!"
The green one stiffened and muttered "Aaaaaaaaand, now it's gone." flicking a twig that had been swept up into his face.
His red-skinned brother, white mane flapping in the wind and body streamlined in the sky, crested his body upwards to soar straight up in what was probably a record-challenging climb. A snap of his legs to his chest later, the crimson daredevil somersaulted thrice in midair, letting gravity pull him back down to earth – he snapped his wings open just in the nick of time to drag his fingertips on the top of the long grass – wait – and now on a collision course with him?
The olive colored one snapped to his feet, arms spinning behind him before holding them out to stop him "HEY! HEY! HEY! WATCH OUT!"
But no collision came, with barely a lance's length of distance between them, the red one had flared his wings once again to careen back into the heavens with a wonderous climb (though not sparing his younger brother the gust of wind he had brought with him). With one final looping roll back to the ground, the stuntman's feet skidded to the mossy surface, slowing over a five-foot brake run until he was two paces away from his audience of one; at which point, he regally swooped one arm beneath his chest and bowed.
"TA-DA!"
The green imp stood in perturbed silence... before grinning and bobbing a sarcastic curtsy in response "Oh, so are we practicing our bows for the princess now~?" he sung out wryly.
The cocksure performer's bowing head immediately snapped up, cheeks flushing redder than the flesh they were on "HEY! Excuse ME for putting a little pageantry into this!"
Of course he had to, a couple dozen siblings and his brother just HAD to get him to be his practice audience? As much as Green loved to play with the gar-dogs and make merry with his rookery siblings at the nightly feasts, he adored exploring the quiet and peaceful fields of emerald that surrounded Castle Wyvern. However, tonight, Red had dashed those plans when hopped up with him on the castle walls just before he flew off... for a favor.
Green grinned and planted his hands on his hips "Hey! YOU'RE the one who asked me if I could do you a favor and give you some critique on your mating flight routine!" shrugging his shoulders "So I'm giving you some critique! And that is... You're going into this WAY too early!"
Red snorted and folded his wings "Well there's no harm in getting a headstart! 'Strike before the iron's hot' as the blacksmith says!"
"It's 'Strike WHILE the iron's hot', stonehead~" Green teased.
The generation of hatchlings were well into their mid-30s... and the hormones were raging in full swing. The males' chests were getting bigger and voices getting deeper, the females' hips and 'bosoms' were developing. Pretty soon, the final stages of gargoyle puberty would begin, where the opposite genders would begin to 'explore' the opposite's changes.
Pair that with Red recently becoming entranced with the Arthurian Tales of Lancelot's and Guinevere's forbidden romance and courtly love? And you had an embarrassing brew of disastrous proportions.
Green had to keep himself from covering his face in embarrassment. Last week, Red had tried yet another move on an amber colored gargoyle he fancied. He had quoted a romantic poem he'd been memorizing from one of Clan Mother's books, not realizing that it was from a risqué comedy. The flustered slap to the face he had received from her ended up welting so bad, not even stone sleep could fix it in one night.
The imp shook his head "Friend. You don't have to prepare your OFFICAL Mating Proposal so soon. The adults won't even allow us to start courting for another three years! Just be yourself and keep practicing your usual gliding, you'll woo at least one girl sooner or later."
Red shook his arms out, tilting his torso to stretch his lats with an extended arm overhead "Oh come on, that WAS my usual gliding!" the youngster boasted "Had I been showing you my actual Mating Flight routine, you wouldn't be able to pick your jaw off the ground!"
Green drummed his fingers against his folded arms *In one ear and out the other, again* he thought to himself. Red was the truest of friends and could be the most wonderful of company... but DRAGON was he dense. The second a female was within a 100-foot radius, his suave demeanor melted into an arty fool's. How would he get halfway through a courting like that?
Gargoyle courting was far different than the strange way humans did it. Humans practiced odd things like arranged marriages, men winning woman's attention with shiny rocks, and many other things Green simply did not understand.
Gargoyles, as far as Green was concerned, had far more personal methods of courtship. Gargoyles had Mating Proposals; a male would present the female he was smitten for with some manner of a gift or act. And with a species as genetically diverse as Gargoyles, there were dozens of proposal methods.
A mighty gargoyle, like Goliath, may present their love with the sword of a felled enemy to show their ability to defend them. A clever or educated gargoyle would profess their love for a desired partner with a romantic sonnet or song of exaltation. However, many gargoyles chose the traditional Mating Proposal: a hunt. Any male who wished to make his choice in lover known, merely needed to hunt an animal prey with his bare talons and drop his kill onto the female's perch; this would prove they could provide for her while she was heavy with egg. Simple, time honored, and oh so reliable.
Wise Elder, the bearded clan leader before Goliath's term, had made a three-day trek to the ocean to kill a seal (a most rare of delicacies for Scottish Gargoyles) for his Mating Proposal. When he had presented it to his lover, he hadn't even been able to get halfway through his speech before she threw herself onto him in squealing acceptance!
Many other methods of proposal existed as well; presentations of ornate crafting, showcases of discovered coves. Yet perhaps the rarest and most dazzling of displays? The Mating Flight.
Few attempted it, even fewer succeeded in it. The stunts and maneuvers required a specific body shape AND for said body shape to be in top shape; if done properly, a gargoyle would look less like he was gliding and more like he was FLYING. Not even the most stubborn of females could find it in themselves to reject a male after such an entrancing performance... some even became with child the very same night!
No wonder Red was so fixated on attempting it.
Red stretched his arms "Well! I might as well give it another dry run!" he proclaimed "With the full moon, I'll be able to practice the whole thing properly! Just sit back and be a second set of eyes for me! Let me know if I line up with the moon properly after I land!"
Green harrumphed "Okay... But if you end up cracking your head open on a rock, you're explaining it to Goliath and Clan Mother!" flicking out an index finger "I covered for you last time you snuck a bouquet from the gardens!"
His elder brother merely snorted in amused acknowledgement. Perching himself upon a rock that oversaw a dramatic drop in the hillside behind it. He began his thousandth attempt at the routine.
With a powerful flex, Red snapped forth his glorious wingspan. Moonlight eclipsed the silhouette of his lean, fit body in a halo of glowing white. A clench of his back muscles shot his wings skyward and whipped his crimson tail into the earth. (Curse it... why did his rookery brother have a chiseled body in such better shape than his?)
Red dove forward into the dip of the hillside, racing down just inches above the tall grass to make it wake in his passing. With another crest upwards, the grass flattened and he took to the sky. With arms and legs streamlined, he shot to the starry night like a crimson arrow, spiraling upwards with the flaring of his wings (...Great, and a far better flyer, too.)
Red's wingspan broke out in all its grandeur, his daring dive now followed by a graceful backflip that sent him sailing back to the emerald surface. Green braced himself for Red's wing to snag the ground on this next routine, but somehow, it didn't. Rather than faceplant into the earth, Red flared one wing upwards to just BARELY scrape the ground with an outstretched hand. Very few gargoyles had the core or wing strength to perform such a move, after all this was one of the maneuvers that weeded out most flyers, but Red made it look effortless! He circled Green in a wide ring, less than a foot from the ground and his snowy hair flowing in the wind (...Okay... He couldn't deny it. That was impressive.)
With an aileron roll barely missing the ground, Red repeated his descent down the hill followed by another lift. Only when he climbed this time, he let lose a feral call that sent chills up Green's spine. While he felt as if the breath had been sucked out of him, the previous symphony of crickets and owls of the wilderness was silenced. Bemused thoughts and snide comments disappeared from Green's mind, replaced only by speechless awe. (Was... Was Red always this magnificent in the air?)
Red eclipsed the moon, his pitch-black silhouette hovering perfectly in the center for a solid three seconds... three seconds wasn't enough. Green hoped he could see it longer. Somersaulting backwards, Red plummeted to the surface like a javelin, his descent as silent as the owls who stalked the night. Even with his dropping supply of potential energy, he somehow managed to look as if he was truly flying. No-
His best friend was soaring.
The crimson marvel was doing the impossible, pushing the limits of what a gargoyle could truly do with their gift of flight. And why? Because he wanted to one day show someone else how much he loved them, to profess how dedicated he was to giving them happiness. Red snapped his wings open and glided just above him, a hand coming down and-
Dragon help him.
Green froze; no, time froze. A single hand had descended to re-enact the moment the male would gently touch the underside of the female's chin in passing. Green found his head guided upwards in a split second, his eyes locking with the ebony iris of his performer. Those wild eyes shone with teasing amusement, Red was merely practicing the movement as a joke, not putting the meaning behind it.
...So then why did Green feel frozen as a gargoyle in sunlight?
The airborne gargoyle, however, kept going. He continued his dazzling display as his dropping height made every stunt more and more daring. He flipped, he spun, he crested... all the while, the imp felt completely dazed and confused.
The shock from the sudden chill down his spine was still there. His legs still felt numb. His eyes still refused to blink. He always knew it was a marvel to watch someone like his rookery brother dance on the wind, but- this wasn't... his face still burned with-
"HEY! He's doing it!"
Green would have leapt out of his skin had a massive, blue hand not clapped down onto his shoulder and held him in place.
The squatting gargoyle snapped his head around to see his aqua colored, heavyset sibling behind him and eyes trained on their midair brethren. His underbite jaw chomped down on a drumstick he had brought as rations for the journey "WHOOOA-F!" his full mouth spitting out a tender fleck of meat "Watch you' air currents, friend!"
"I know! I know!" a strained, slightly panicked, voice rasped out. Red had overestimated how much elevation he had left for his final dive and now he was rocketing towards the two onlookers... with no lift to bring him higher "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" arms and wings spreading did nothing to slow himself down.
The green and blue brothers held up their hands to brace themselves "Pull up! Pull up!"
Red waved his arms frantically "Move! Move!" but quickly changed his order to "Wait no! CATCH ME! CATCH ME! CATCH M-"
"OMPHF!"
The less than graceful landing of the red performer sent him smashing into his two brothers. Blue's drumstick was knocked out of his hand, Green was sandwiched between his two larger siblings, and all three became entangled in one another as they somersaulted down the hill in a tri-color blob of grunts and barks.
That was until they snagged on a rock that sent them tumbling through the air and dogpiling onto one another
"OOF!"
"NNFFF!"
"OOMPH!"
The large blue gargoyle hand landed fast first in dirt; the red daredevil had got entangled his legs with his haunches parked on his imp brother's head; and the little green gargoyle had ended up on the bottom of the pile... now trying to lift them off him.
"Ngggghhh, move, will ya?" he complained.
Blue picked his head up out of the earth, spitting out a chunk of soil that had replaced his snack "PLEH!" scrapping the meat of his palm over his tongue to wipe off any remaining earth "Smooth landing, loverboy. The maidans are going to love it." he grumbled tartly.
Red didn't even pick his head up, instead electing to raise one finger into the air in his defense "Hey, make it through the first routine, THEN you can comment all you want!"
Green managed to free his head slightly, taking the first second of freedom to tease his elder brother "I don't know, friend. I think tackling her would put your own flare on the flight!" he laughed "Pinning her down seems to be a VERY 'you' thing to do- MPHFF!"
The small gargoyle was silenced by his red sibling picking up the butt that was parked on his face and slamming it back down "I'll pin YOU down all night!" he snarled with a cocksure crossing of his arms "In case you two haven't noticed, I almost got the ENTIRE routine down!"
The largest of the gargoyles stood up and plucked his red and green siblings to their feet with ease; the trio dusted themselves off. They went back and forth between Red proudly proclaiming his greatness... and also him being a pouting sourpuss when they pointed to the flattened grass trail, the evidence of their tumble downhill.
Red swatted a large, blue hand that ruffled his hair "HEY! HEY!" he complained, raking his hands though his luscious locks to smooth it out "Don't mess with the mane! Just cause you two don't have hair doesn't mean you have to ruin it for the rest of us!"
Green hopped up and down on his rock perch "Hehe, give it time! I'm just waiting for you to try your hand at fire twirling at a feast! You'll be as bald as us when you singe that whole thing off!"
*grooowlllllllll*
The mention of 'feast' made an unholy sound gurgle from the largest gargoyle's belly... that he now pathetically hugged "Speaking of feast..." he whimpered out meekly.
The two smaller gargoyles couldn't help but make a similar expression, they had skipped breakfast after all. Red snapped his wings open in a majestic flare "Last one back to the castle has to wash the stables this week!" he declared "THREETWOONEGO!"
Red didn't get to finish his statement though, for his little rookery brother had leapt onto his shoulders and used him as a springboard to gain altitude for a glide "Have it your way!" he called back with a laugh "I'll have the stable hands ready for you!"
A shaking red fist chased after him "BAAAAAAH!"
New York City 1996
Lexington shook his head; when cleaning the stables or weeding the gardens were the worst of their worries. Where the most traumatic thing any of them endured was a scolding or spanking from a parent... not watching your entire race be exterminated or be hooked up to some machine for a mad doctor to dissect you in the modern day.
So how the hell was Lexington supposed to find Brooklyn?
Lex's eyes scanned the rooftops as he glided. The very few times any of them got upset as kids, there were very few places you could run off to for solitude. At most you could find a tree or large boulder to sulk under, making you easy to find once one of your moms or dads came to coddle you. In New York? Forget it. You'd never find someone if they didn't want to be found.
Hell, you'd never find someone even if they DID want to be found.
Every Gargoyle had their 'Go-To' spot when they needed to clear their heads. Hudson, ancient in his ways, would find solace in the greenery of Central Park. Goliath, ever the stoic one, would slip into the rafters of the New York Public Library on 5th Avenue to bury himself in modern literature. The trio knew better than to interrupt the two patriarchs when they actively chose to distance themselves for the evening; they merely needed an hour or two to steady themselves before they'd then return as the rock for the young ones to lean upon, as if nothing had happened.
With the trio? It was different.
They were never given solitude. Goliath and Hudson ALWAYS sought them out to try and nurture them, not realizing that sometimes they just wanted to be left alone. Broadway's spot to hide was originally the west side of Grand Central station – considering the fact it's where he had cried his eyes out for three hours the night he had shot Elisa. Unfortunately, it being just two blocks away from Goliath's choice of library meant he had to change it to St. Patrick's Cathedral to keep his privacy. When Lex was having a bad night, he much preferred watching the ice skating at the Rockefeller in the winter months or listening to the music of Carnegie Hall in the summer months...
...although he had a secret third place on standby when he was having an especially bad night.
Lexington sighed bitterly as he looked back at the Empire State Building he flew away from, it was Brooklyn's preferred spot to be alone; he had no luck in finding him there. The Intrepid Museum had been a bust as well, and if fighter jets hadn't cheered Brooklyn up, nothing would've. Now all what was left was the scour any usual hotspots in the direction he had flown off in... sure, just comb the 14 miles of Manhattan, that was a great plan.
Angela and Broadway had caught up with him after he dove from the tower to join in the search, but even with them splitting up to cover more ground, finding one person in New York City was harder than finding a needle in a barn house's worth of haystacks. They had checked his favorite spots and areas, yet they found nothing. There were no other points of interest that Brooklyn would retreat to!
….. That was... Unless...
Lexington made a turn at the next intersection.
"-Not that it will fix the situation with Lexington, though..." Goliath muttered out grimly.
He made a heel turn and paced in the opposite direction, the flame of the library's fireplace casting a shadow on a sitting Elisa and Hudson.
"He be a young lad who wants to prove himself; it is oil to the fire" Hudson said from behind the interlocked fingers that were before his lips. Goliath noticed he omitted his usual punctuation of 'lad' when he spoke to him.
Goliath's kowtow apology hadn't led to the emotional reconciliation he had hoped for with Broadway and Lexington, but it at least had the desired effect on Hudson and Elisa; they knew his remorse was genuine. When Lexington had leapt over the wall, Broadway followed him without so much of a glance in Goliath's direction, Angela toddled shortly after with a quiet "...I'll bring them back." before she matched their dive. Goliath fully expected Hudson to follow suit, but to his surprise, Hudson sheathed his blade and sighed. His elder gave him a tired clap on the shoulder and said they should retire to the library to discuss, well, everything.
"The lad won't come around on his own, Goliath. Ye need's Brooklyn's pardon before the others will give ye theirs." Hudson hadn't forgiven Goliath entirely, not yet, but he was willing to show clemency "It's the only catalyst that I see."
"I know... I know... You are right..." Goliath grunted through a forced exhale "...But I must know how I can even begin to reforge what I've destroyed. I know I cannot win- no, EARN their trust back, but I must show them that I am going to do what I must to build it again."
"Well, the message got across fine, I think." Elisa commented, elbows on her knees and folded hands pointing to the carpet "Broadway's reaction proved it. They know you love them, they're just skeptical about you able to keep to your word to treat them that way."
Goliath halted his pacing for a moment, snapping his head in Elisa's direction "I-!" but silenced himself and returned to his tramping across the floor, pinching the bridge of his nose. Goliath wouldn't trust his word either. Elisa still wasn't budging on the 'chaperone rule' with Brooklyn; even though she DID have full faith in him after his heartfelt plea, she wouldn't let Goliath anywhere near his second in command until the latter said he was ready.
"But that brings us to the second problem..." Elisa uttered "Hitting Brooklyn has locked you out from the boys; even if they do fully trust you, that's only half the battle. Brooklyn has to forgive you, and I mean a BIG 'forgive you' if Broadway and Lexington are ever going to come around." she made a transition motion with her hands "And I think it's safe to say a grand absolution tends to come from a grand gesture."
Goliath's hand released its hold from his face, cocking his attention back to her, she said that as if she had something in mind "...Such as?"
"Well for starters, you were going to knock Brooklyn from your number two spot. So we nee-"
Goliath's eyes widened, barking "WHAT?!" with far more volume than he'd intended.
Elisa's eyes went nearly as wide as his, pausing a moment before responding "...Well yeah, you sounded like you were going to demote him from second in com-"
"NEVER!" Goliath interjected fiercely; fingers splayed out "Yes! I know we were in discord, but you thought I would disgrace him by stripping him of his leadership position?"
A combined glare from Hudson and Elisa unfortunately gave him a clear answer.
Goliath deflated "Very well, I'll grant that. But no! I would never do that to him! He is a FINE leader!"
Elisa furrowed her brow, glancing away and gears turning "So if that isn't what you..." her eyes returned to him with a waving of her hand "Okay okay, so wait. Goliath." she sat up straight "Let's back up. After you told Brooklyn you knew about the 'Getting rid of the competition' thing, you told him to return to the castle cause you and I needed to talk in private. I took that as: you were going to demote him and wanted a second opinion. So if that wasn't it, then what WERE you wanting to talk about?"
Goliath felt a shock of lightning ripple through him. Oh no.
He must have taken too long to respond, because Hudson sat forward "...Goliath?"
Goliath debated asking Hudson to exit so he and Elisa speak in private; but he didn't need to do that if he told her the partial truth. Now was not the time to tell her the full reason, not after what happened tonight.
"Well, yes, I indeed dismissed him to discuss his leadership with you, but dismissing him from command wasn't the goal." The topic felt sour in his mouth "I was planning on basic discipline: confining him to the castle for the next week unless it was for a patrol or mission. He's been unfocused for weeks, and I needed him back in line. I wanted you and I to speak together on any other additional steps."
Goliath was clan leader; he didn't need anyone's approval or input on his decisions, but a good clan leader WANTED approval and input on his decisions. Elisa was a trusted and valued equal, her words carried more weight than even his own Second in Command's.
Goliath let out a silent sigh of relief when Elisa and Hudson both bought it and moved on.
Hudson, not wanting to beat a dead horse, skipped repeating the same criticism from earlier "Well, that may save us a great deal o' more arguments. If you tell the lad the job is still his, that might work in your favor... though I doubt he'd be eager to accept it."
"That's what I was talking about with a 'grand gesture'. Tell him you're finally going to give him classes in leadership, maybe toss him a special perch next to you up on the tower, something as a token that you value him." Elisa added plainly "I'm not saying you bribe him to get him to talk to you, but providing something immediate might have him open up. Maybe it'll let him be open to talking."
Hudson gnawed slightly on a fingernail "I'll speak with the young ones once they return, see what their relationships are between them... after all I, reckon they'll have poor luck in findin' the lad tonight. He wouldn't have fled from them if somethin' else were not between them..." his knee was bouncing unconsciously as he thought out loud "...but I haven't the slightest clue what it be. The boys were closer than ever the past few months..."
Goliath's pacing ceased, earning a glance up from Elisa and Hudson.
He blinked: it was because there was a fourth member thrown into the three.
The clan leader doubted even more if he could ever tell Elisa the full truth now. The REAL reason he wanted to speak with Elisa in private? He wanted to ask how he could accelerate Brooklyn's assumption of responsibilities.
Goliath had another reason for pushing Brooklyn so hard the past month, besides wanting to prevent a second Demona. He didn't want to admit it, but he saw someone who could shoulder the burden of leadership. He saw a way to pass the daily responsibilities to.
His time with Angela and Elisa had been bliss. While he finally knew how much he truly missed his sons, at the time, he adored the intimacy of it all.
Him, his lover, and his daughter... spending all the time in the world with them; no distractions. There were no patrols to be had, no missions to undergo, and no responsibilities that had to pull his attention away from them. It had just been the three of them and nothing to separate the nuclear family, nothing except returning home to Manhattan. Now again he had to make plans to deal with Xanatos, how to deal with their revelation to the world, how to handle all these new trials... all of which pulled his attention away from his girls.
When he returned from Avalon to see that the Manhattan Clan had been functioning without him, he was relieved... perhaps he could step back and give more control to his second in command. Perhaps he could even push Brooklyn into taking more and more duties to the point Goliath could regularly be away to spend time with Elisa and Angela. If he forged Brooklyn in fire, he'd be ready all the faster. But now, in his haste to have a deeper bond with his family, he had driven a wedge into it.
"Lad?" Hudson asked in general concern.
Goliath's face had buried itself into a single hand, he made a sound he had not made in quite some time. Elisa was immediately on her feet and by his side "...Big guy?"
Hearing his nickname from her finally be said again did nothing to stop what was coming.
Guilt and regret filled a tear that streaked down his face. Hudson instantly had joined Elisa, placing a hand of hesitant forgiveness on his forearm. Goliath tried to choke back the sickness he felt inside of him, but he couldn't stop the second tear from producing itself.
When the children weren't around to see it, a father could finally show weakness. Not him though, as far as he was concerned, he had forfeited the right to call himself one.
"Brooklyn...? Brooklyn...?"
Lexington hadn't been to the clocktower since the hunter attack, none of them had. It seemed the perfect spot for Brooklyn to hide, but as Lexington called out softly more and more, he realized he was alone. All there was in the tower were scaffoldings and construction equipment here to repair the damage. There was nothing left.
There was no proof his clan had even lived here at all.
There was nothing left. No evidence of all that had happened here. In that corner is where he had read and learned all he could about technology. Over there was where Brooklyn had been named second in command. Downstairs was where the clan tutored Broadway and Hudson in learning to read. They had lived here, fought here, reconciled here, and grown here.
Now nothing was left, just a cold ruin with a draft of air blowing through it. Lexington couldn't help but scoff... was this their fate? Was this the fate of every gargoyle? To just be smashed stone and disappear from the world?
Lexington aimlessly flipped over wooden boards and stone slabs, hoping to uncover... well, ANYTHING. One of their comic books? A video game they had forgotten? SOMETHING that belonged to them? He didn't even bother looking for a photograph of any of them... no such thing existed; Goliath only existed on Kodachrome because he and Elisa had their picture last Halloween. The rest of them existed only in memory of one another.
Such was the fate of every gargoyle.
His brothers, his sisters, his mothers, his fathers... they had been expunged from the world, reduced to gravel millennia ago. Their remains were probably ground up and turned into roads or construction. Either way, nothing remained of any of them. No tombstone, no memorial, no offspring to carry on their stories. Their entire culture and history... hundreds of books closing, never to be reopened.
He pulled down tarps, moved aside machinery, and still he found nothing.
Why did it always happen to THEM? Entire clans had survived for centuries across the world, adapting and evolving with the centuries; but not his clan, they were always barely surviving. Now they were down to just a handful. Why were they in so much worse shape than other clans? Who or what was it that made them... them...
GOLIATH
Something set Lexington's teeth on edge. Of course... OF COURSE. His eyes nearly turned to their glowing while as he looked around the clock tower, trying to remember the night the clock tower, THEIR HOME, had been destroyed by the Hunters.
The hunters had found the gargoyles in their home and tried to kill them. Why? BECAUSE GOLIATH HAD LED THEM RIGHT TO THEM. HE had the tracker on him! Because he had been the fool who attacked the hunter's airship, breaking his own rule of not engaging them alone! They ALL would have been dead had Lexington not noticed the tracker in time!
Make that TWO homes Goliath's stupidity had caused him and his brothers to lose!
Not that that mattered though, considering the fact his overcompensation for losing it nearly got them all turned into trophies. Back when they had first got Xanatos sent on an all-expense-paid trip to the slammer, Goliath refused to leave the castle despite the pleas of Brooklyn and Elisa. And thanks to him not budging, MACBETH strolled right in and took Brooklyn and himself as prisoners! Once again, Brooklyn and Lexington were the ones paying the price for Goliath's decision! Why didn't he just listen to Brooklyn?
Lexington cupped his head, his rage forcing a snapped giggle to sneak past his lips. You know, it was funny. All their problems as of late seemed to happen when Goliath was around. When Brooklyn was in command for nearly a year, they were all as safe as could be. Barely anything came after them, barely anything at ALL happened to them!
The VERY day Goliath came back? Oberon happened. Gee, wonder if GOLIATH's wandering aimlessly through time and space might have drawn Oberon's attention! After that? They all got clones made after them who tried to kill them all because GOLIATH'S clone decided to get wise! Immediately after that? Well, the whole Coldsteel incident happened because Xanatos wanted to do something for GOLIATH'S benefit! And THEN after that? The whole hunter's incident happened because GOLIATH's choice in mate had to go crazy and then GOLIATH's stupidity led the hunters right to them!
The clan would have been a red stain splattered across the street had Lex just been three seconds late in noticing the tracker and Brooklyn hadn't yelled for them to get into the floor closet!
Lex blinked. The floor closet.
Lexington's head snapped around. He hadn't looked there yet. He leapt over and yanked it open. YES!
It wasn't much, but it was something! He leapt down to see a few of his and Brooklyn's magazines were left behind. Even Broadway's secret-not-so-secret stash of sweets was still tucked behind one of the shelves! How did he not notice these the last time they were here?
Lexington paused. Well, he guessed it was because he was practically knocked out cold last time he was here. The last thing he remembered was the blast sending him into blackness and barely regaining consciousness just as Goliath was lifting him out of the hole... and then,
He was in Brooklyn's arms.
Lexington could feel his pace quicken at that thought. Goliath hadn't given Lexington's limp form to Brooklyn, no, Brooklyn had TAKEN Lexington from Goliath. Lex barely had the strength to move a muscle or even open his eyes, but he remembered the blurry image of ruby talons slipping beneath his back and legs, followed by the warmth and comfort of his best friend's arms.
Even when Lexington's ear rested against Brooklyn's chest and could hear his racing heartbeat, that deep, gravelly voice calmly murmured "Shhh... It's okay... I got you, dude." to him. Brooklyn was as frantic and terrified as he was, but he still put on a strong façade for him... well, not ALL of it was a façade.
Brooklyn had been bulking up. Two years ago, he was as skinny as Lex was and even matched his squatted stance. Over the past few months though? He began to strut around tall and proud, his shoulders back and eyes forward. He had put on a considerable amount of muscle... and when he was held in those strong arms, he felt it.
Even when he regained the strength to fly on his own again... he saw no real rush to share it. Brooklyn had him covered. His touch, his warmth... his scent... The feeling of being protected by a strong gargoyle you admired abo-
Lex shook his head frantically; less to shake it clear of those thoughts and more to DENY that style of thinking. What was he thinking? First that night back in Scotland and now this? There was no time to think of Brooklyn in such an... an... 'odd' way. Not when HE needed HIM to return the protection and care tonight!
He climbed out of the broom closet and sealed the door behind him, didn't want saw dust getting over everything and he couldn't have armfuls of stuff when he found Brooklyn... IF he found Brooklyn. He hopped onto the semi-standing structure that had once been the west wall of the tower. He didn't know what time it was (Yeah, how ironic was that?) but, spitballing, he guessed he had just an hour before sunrise. Lex was still nowhere closer to finding Brooklyn than he was two hours ago, he was out of places to look, and there wasn't enough time to hope he just ran into him.
Lex perched himself on the ledge, a dozen thoughts arguing over which way he should take off. Well... there was ONE spot he hadn't checked yet. Lexington snapped his arms up to spread his wings into a dive.
He headed south. His third and final 'go-to' spot was reserved for bad nights... and tonight had hit enough points to warrant a visit; furthermore, he only ever told Brooklyn about it. He closed his eyes and huffed, trying to find what little peace he could in the wind. If Brooklyn wanted to be found, just not by Goliath or the others, maybe he would have gone there... but maybe Lex had to stop denying the fact that Brooklyn just didn't want to be found tonight.
"Wherever you are, man... I hope you're safe..."
*BANG*
*BANG*
*BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG*
"WHERE ARE YOU!?"
The pitch-black warehouse was illuminated by the muzzle flash of a wildly spraying rifle. Just a few minutes ago the buzz of high bay lights had been silenced and plunged the cache into darkness; someone had cut the power. When the thugs had gone to throw open the barn doors for light, a street sign had been tied around the handles on the outside like a pretzel, locking them inside. The access doors had wedged shut somehow as well. There was no way out. Suddenly:
"N-NO! NO! NO!" *BANG* BANG*"GET AWAY FROM ME-"
The scream of someone on the other side of the warehouse could be heard by all, followed by the frantic discharge of a rifle, followed by silence.
Another one had been taken.
Five members huddled together back-to-back, only two had time to grab a firearm when the lights had been cut, the other three held nothing but the very crowbars they had been using to pop open the wooden crates they'd been offloading.
"WAIT NO! PLEA-"
In the opposite direction of where the last scream came from, another pleading gang member was muffled. No gunfire was heard, instead, the howl of the unlucky human could be heard as they were thrown across the room and smashed through the boarded-up windows. But rather than smash clean through, they had snagged on the glass and wood; the first source of light, the dim yellow glow of the dock lights, came in. The silhouette of a limp body now cast its unconscious shadow on the opposite wall.
One of the five clenched his crowbar, feeling naked without anything to arm himself with. They were being picked off one by one. What the hell was happening? It wasn't a rival gang, it wasn't the police, it was something out of a nightmare-
What little blood that was left in his face suddenly drained. A set of glowing white eyes appeared in the darkness; they weren't the eyes of a human. His body refused to move, he could only yell to alert the others. Yet the bullets of the two, armed thugs hit nothing but cinder block because those eyes disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.
Overhead, the sound of snapping metal rang out, one of the bay lights had been cut from the ceiling; the five leapt in five different directions as it shattered to the ground in a blinding explosion of sparks. Lost and stumbling in the darkness, the thug snapped his head around wildly. He elbows shook, his hands sweat... he screamed out again
"WHERE ARE YOU!?"
"...Here." Brooklyn whispered behind him.
Brooklyn only gave him a split second to screech in religious horror before his red talons slapped over his skull and slammed it against the wall; he knocked him out cold. Humans truly had awful hearing.
Humans, for the dominant race of Earth, were so fragile. They didn't have the strength of a gargoyle, the wings, the resilience, or as tonight proved: the night vision. Brooklyn didn't have the obscene super strength of Goliath, the resources of Demona, nor the speed of Lexington. So, taking down a warehouse full of armed guards took strategy. A simple divide and conquer strategy: kill the lights by smashing the fuse box before entering, seal off all the exits, stick to the shadows and wait for someone to separate from the others, then knock them out with enough volume to make the remaining hostiles panic. No, Goliath nor Hudson taught him that, Batman: The Animated Series did. Thank you, 20th century cable!
Brooklyn's eyes were wild, his grin hadn't left his face. At first, he had been terrified to face so many armed gunmen at once. But now? He loved it.
He liked letting off steam.
He spied another thug stumbling scared in the dark, their hands feeling in front of them as they tried to navigate the maze of stolen crates. When Brooklyn barreled at him at full speed, the look on the human's face was priceless. Terror, fear, helplessness. All three of those were carved into his anguish-stricken mug when he realized the sound he heard was the boogey man coming for him.
Brooklyn leapt up and kicked him square in the chest, knocking him out against a shipping container. Brooklyn honestly wished he was still conscious so he could yank him up by the hair and hiss "What's wrong? Scared? Didn't seem to care when you terrorized civilians."
Gunfire rang out but Brookyln was already well out of their line of fire. Someone ran to throw the breaker back on, but Brooklyn was there waiting for them. Brooklyn didn't even bother pulling his punches anymore... he honestly probably shattered a few bones of these 'people' already. He didn't care.
He liked the power.
He was sick of feeling helpless, of being the one who always got the short end of the stick. Well now he'd do what HE wanted! He was owed ONE single night where he could let loose! Besides, it's not like he was giving them anything they couldn't heal from anyways! It was better than what they deserved!
He yanked a full-grown man up by the collar and flung him up into the steel supports of the catwalk.
Had these little GREMLIN not gotten away, then maybe Goliath wouldn't have freaked out on him! Hell, had they not existed in the first place, he wouldn't have had to spend the past weeks staking them out and losing his chance with Angela!
He snatched one of the thug's rifles from out of his hand, swung it around, and clocked him across the jaw with it. He was sent shattering through a wooden crate.
Had people like them not existed, he'd be back at the castle playing video games with Lex by now!
His shadow cast across the yellow light as he leapt up and stomped another terrified thug to the ground.
Had people like them not existed, He'd be happy!
Cocksure, he kicked a crowbar up into his hands and used it to sweep a gang member into the air by hooking around their ankle; he knocked them back to the ground in mid-air.
Had people like HUMANS not existed, HIS FAMILY WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!
*BANG*
Brooklyn bellowed out a feral roar. A dart had hit him in the back. He cursed at his gunman and at himself; he had gotten too careless! His glowing eyes shot pure hate at his assailant: a gunman on the balcony... clad in night vision goggles.
He yanked the dart from his shoulder with a pained roar. Okay, THIS guy was getting a shattered collar bone for that one!
Brooklyn hated himself; he was a genius tactician. He knew he was as good as Golia- NO, he was BETTER than Goliath! But all his plans to capture Demona failed because his rage had always made him reckless. With his anger dictating all his moves for the whole night... he was reaping what he sewed.
Rifle mounted flashlights now clicked on overhead from the balcony, bathing him in white light. CRUD! There went his cover of darkness!
The last thug on ground level rushed him with crowbar in hand, but Brooklyn dodged it with a backstep before cracking him across the back with a swing of his tail
*BANG*
"GROAAARRR!" Brooklyn let out another feral screech. This time another dart had pierced his shoulder; he went to yank it out, but suddenly all the strength in his grip had been reduced to zero. His whole hand went numb!
*BANG*
Another one pierced between where his wings met his back. Brooklyn fell to one knee. DAMMIT!
*BANG*
NO!
He tried to move! He tried to struggle to his feet! Every drop of willpower he had went to trying to flee for one of the windows in hopes he could smash through it! But his body was flooding with tranquilizers that sent him down to all fours! How had he been so stupid?! Where did these guys even come from!?
Brookyln struggled to take a haggard breath, his knees and elbows giving out. He collapsed on one side, lips still curled back in rage as his eyes locked onto a pair of boots that approached him. The red gargoyle snapped his glazed eyes up; an ugly as hell human pulled his nightvision goggles up, revealing a liver spotted face crowned with a balding head that somehow had long greasy hair falling over his shoulders.
Before Brookyln could hiss out, the human had scrapped the crowbar Brooklyn had previously wielded. With an arc of his shoulder, he swung it back down and cracked it against Brooklyn's temple.
Everything went dark.
Lexington repressed a scowl as he read the inscription.
"Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore, Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
"So when does that policy start applying to us?" he muttered at the poem inscribed in stone whilst he passed by.
Ellis island, the one place Lexington could be guaranteed peace. His third and last resort for respite was always something he could rely on. With the island being closed to all visitors before sunset, he could walk here as a free gargoyle, even if only for a few hours. No risk of a passing car, no worries of the prying eyes of others; it was just him.
An island that processed millions of people for nearly a hundred years to be accepted into the welcoming arms of a different America... everyone except a Gargoyle.
Lexington had had plenty of time to catch up on the past thousand years he'd miss via the pages of history books and museums. This island had integrated millions of strangers into becoming citizens, people escaping starvation, fleeing oppression, or people simply seeking a better life. They had all crossed the Atlantic Ocean to come to a strange land and had been tolerated... So why not them too?
Lexington's last-ditch attempt to find Brooklyn had pulled him from the peaceful calm of the outdoors and into the dark corridors of the converted-museum's exhibits. Rows of pictures featuring immigrants given a second chance, no matter how slim it was, did nothing but wedge envy into overflow of negative emotions that already packed themselves into his mind.
He knew it was impossible for humans to ever accept them, hell, even tolerate them. All Lexington could hope for at this point was to just be left alone. He didn't care if his guardianship of Manhattan went without gratitude, he just wanted to save someone from a mugging without worrying if the victim would attack him as soon as he scared off their assailant!
It's why he fell in love with this spot when he first stumbled across it last year. He had found some place where he could walk down the street like he was accepted. Without the guise of Halloween, Lexington could walk down an abandoned street and fantasize that everyone was just sleeping; that he wasn't labeled as a freak deserving to be shot on sight... Dragon he wished he had brought Brooklyn here sometime.
...would have been nice to confidently walk the street as just the two of them. No judging eyes to glare at them.
Lexington shook his head free of the thought again. Why did he keep thinking that? He wanted to walk the street with everyone in his clan! Not just Brooklyn! As angry as he was at Goliath or jealous of Angela, he just wanted everyone to finally be free of this curse! To not be judged or looked down upon!
He grit his teeth... or to be born one way and told it was wrong! That there was something wrong with you! He was born this way, it's not like he could control it!
But that impossible dream would have to be wished on for another time, dawn was coming. As Lex trudged back to the front entrance, he accepted the reality that Brooklyn would be alone and angry as he roosted tonight.
"I'll find you tomorrow night, I promise." he vowed softly, the light blue of the approaching dawn now slipping through the windows of the museum's gift shop "...I'll bring you home."
"..I'll..." he paused as he saw something on display just outside the gift shop. He was pulled in "...Wait a sec."
Brooklyn's head pounded.
W̶͎͂̌͒̊͛̇̀̽á̵̯̦͖͎̞̮̾̃̚͜k̸͎̻̅̓͜ͅe̸̜̾̉ ̶̢̬̟̗́̈́̾͗͐̅́̚͝͝ū̶̢̳̗̤͉͙͐̓̈́̚͝p̴̡̨̢͓̼̰̞̑̓̌̅̏̒̿͝
Foggy, far-off words echoed in the distance.
"...Wake up..."
He felt as if he had drowned underwater.
"WAKE UP!"
*ZAAAAP!*
Brookyln's eyes snapped open and he roared awake. He had been shocked with a cattle prod in the side.
"GROOOAARRR!" His thrash to hopefully break free of whatever chains he had been placed in yield no results; instead, it only made him sway.
He was hanging upside down, suspended from the catwalk by a set of chains lashed around his ankles. The padlocked chains that coiled around his torso and arms like an industrial anaconda sure made for a matching set. In front of him, a right-side-up semi-circle of a LITTLE more than pissed off thugs looked fit to kill him.
Well, if they were gonna kill him, they would've done it by now.
Despite the fact his head was splitting open, he flashed a defiant grin "You know guys, just cause I'm nocturnal and got wings, doesn't mean I'm a bat. I prefer my vertical orientation to be in the OTHER direction." he snickered, managing to barely jab a thumb up.
*ZAAAAAAAP!*
The crimson gargoyle let loose another roar as the cattle prod speared itself into his ribcage to give him another jolt of electricity. His fake confidence gave way to a furious snarl towards the wielder.
*You...* he thought.
The same ugly, liver spotted human who had knocked him unconscious now slapped the length of the hand-held shocker into his open palm "And if I clip your wings? What then?"
Brookyln merely grit his teeth. Damn it all... HAD HE REALLY LOST TO THESE GUYS? He should have been scared for his life, but he was more dreading what would happen when the clan finally found him! Not only had he failed to bring down these wackjobs, but now HE was the one who needed to be rescued?! At this point, just kill him now and save him the indignity of having to be saved by Goliath. It'd be mercy!
Brooklyn's hatred and frustration boiled to just the mantle of his breast... but he refused to give this worm the satisfaction. Goliath and the others would no doubt be here any second to bail him out and they WOULD NOT see him groveling and begging like a hatchling!
Instead, he flashed a grin "Eh, I'd ice your guys' head over there first, I REALLY think I hit him a bit too hard!" he joked at one of the thugs who, upside down, he saw sitting on a crate "Sorry pal, no hard feelings, right?" he said, mockingly kissing the air.
Another zap to the side and agonized grunt made his grin curl back into a sneer.
The ugly one looked behind at one of his guys "How much longer?"
"20 minutes, Radar." the lackey responded, looking up from a pager "We negotiated the price to 1.2 mil."
Radar grunted, his greasy hair slapping his shoulders as he looked back down to the inverted gargoyle "Should have gotten more for their leader..." his eyes mulling something over "1.3 mil. Or they're leavin' empty handed." he stated.
Brooklyn's stomach dropped; they knew about the bounty the quarrymen had on gargoyles.
Radar squatted down to meet his eyeline "From what I hear, all eyewitness accounts say the red one's been the one seen calling all the shots." he tapped the side of Brooklyn's face with the metal of the prod "Ain't that right? You the ringmaster of the freakshow?" he asked coyly.
"Well if ya want my business card, you could've just asked." Brooklyn quipped sarcastically, trying to keep his bearing even with all the blood rushing to his head "I mean, it's a nice management position. I get a company car, a nice parking space, dental insurance-HRRRRRKKKK!"
The last vestige of smugness that laced his lips disappeared when Radar sunk the active taser into the meat of his trapezius.
And left it there.
His grunts gave way to a piercing shriek that vibrated with the voltage igniting his nerve endings. His drugged body panicked and thrashed like a dying animal hung from a meat hook. His skin sizzled and smoked as the electrified prongs began to burrow past his flesh and into his muscle mass.
"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Brooklyn's shrieks ebbed for but a decibel when Radar finally yanked the prod out, the stench of burned flesh now smoking in the air. A gasping suck for air silenced what would have been an agonized screech from his beak. Those things could make a full-grown bull five times his size leap in the air at just the slightest graze... a few seconds of it in him had nearly cooked his neck!
Survival instinct quickly overtook his pride "Okay! ...O-Okay!" he strained through the agony of his singed meat "Look! W-Whatever the quarrymen are shelling out, I guarantee you it's not worth it!" he swore. If the quarrymen got a hold of him, he was dead.
"Quarrymen?" Radar chirped, visibly enjoying the flinch he got out of Brooklyn when he did a fake-out shock an inch from his face "Who says we're selling you to the quarrymen?"
Brooklyn's frantic eyes snapped back and forth. Who the hell were these people? He and Goliath had been staking these guys out for weeks, they seemed to just sell stolen electronics and bulk goods. Why were they packing tranq-rifles and night vision? What kind of dirty money were these guys in?
Brooklyn's ears clenched: *Wait... dirty money. *
A stroke of genius graced him "What? You mean you're planning on selling me to David Xanatos?" putting heavy emphasis on the proper noun "I know he's got a TEN-million-dollar bounty on gargoyles, but please don't sell me to him!"
No such bounty existed, but they didn't need to know that.
If these thugs told that rich-prick they had a gargoyle, at least it would ensure the clan would know where he was – and hopefully buy him enough time to NOT be shattered into gravel at the next Quarrymen rally. Pride wasn't worth dying over.
Brooklyn's blood chilled, because Radar only snickered "Well yer in luck, red baron. Rich boy ain't gettin' ya."
"B-But it's more mon-"
"Yeah, damn shame you didn't sing earlier." he lamented with a shrug of his prod-wielding shoulder "But I know better than to back out of a deal with Calvert. I'm not lookin' to be turned into one of his organ factories."
A voice chimed out from behind "1.3 mil is confirmed Radar! They're on their way; ETA 10 minutes."
"Spectacular." An unenthusiastic Radar dryly responded, tapping Brooklyn's cheek twice with the length of the cattle prod "Prep him."
Brooklyn's heart was beating out of his chest; he was going to die. Either he'd be smashed to pieces once the sun rose, or he was going to be moved during the day and be impossible to track. He'd heard this a dozen times from Elisa: "With a missing person's case. If you don't find them within 72 hours, you're never going to find them."
The semi-circle of thugs was closing in on him.
No one knew where he had gone and he was the only one in the clan who knew where these guy's base of operations was. The flexes of his arms and twisting of his shoulders did nothing to break free of the steel python that had slithered around him, the tranquilizers that still poisoned him made him far too weak! He couldn't escape, but:
Desperate and out of options, Brooklyn chomped down on his lip right as the sights of a tranq-rifle lined up on him. The bite of his fangs drew warm blood from his lip, causing just enough to dribble out for him to spit it to the ground. The only scent marker he could think to leave.
The sound of the rifle cocking chilled the night.
A set of terrified, onyx eyes frantically looked around, pleading for some last-second rescue from the others – It didn't come.
*BANG*
Lex clenched a fist against his forehead, back resting against the masonry of one of the island's towers. Coming here had been a mistake.
When he had passed the gift shop on the way out, he had spied the same stupid CD he had always seen when he visited the island. Numbness and spite had pushed him to swipe a copy along with a CD Player and headphones. Now he wished he hadn't.
Because the lyrics mocked him.
"And courage is the passport
When your old world disappears"
"Isle of Hope, Isle of Tears" by The Irish Tenors; a song Lex could only guess was about arriving immigrants in New York lamenting the pain of leaving their home behind. The three patronizing smiles on the album cover serenaded him with the story of his life. These humans thought they knew what it was like to lose a home, but they didn't. They had no idea.
"But there's no future in the past
When you're fifteen years"
Those damn Irish voices. They weren't Scottish... but Sweet Dragon, were they close. Close to the accents of all his mothers and fathers that used to so kindly and lovingly sing to him whenever he was upset. The voices that once surrounded him with love and acceptance.
"Isle of hope, isle of tears,
Isle of freedom, isle of fears"
He enjoyed the wonderous new experiences of the new millennium... but he'd give up every circuit board he'd ever had in an instant if it meant he got to be held one last time by any of his mothers...
"But it's not the isle you've left behind.
That isle of hunger, isle of pain,"
The orange rays of dawn began to crest over the horizon. Manhattan was where he lived, but it was not his home. Across the water he looked at, across the Atlantic, and across time itself... Scotland 1000 years ago was his home.
"Isle you'll never see again"
And yes, he'd never see it again.
Lexington's olive hands covered his face, his bottom lip quivering and trying to hold it together long enough for stone sleep to save him. He didn't WANT computers, technology, or gadgets. He wanted to be back at Castle Wyvern, enjoying the priceless moments of his brothers and sisters, moments he didn't know were numbered.
Sunlight began to bathe the morning dawn, warming his shaking form and hardening it into stone.
He just wanted everything to go back to normal. He wanted to have more than Goliath's divided attention as his only source of affection. He wanted his mothers and his fathers...
...He wanted Brooklyn.
"But the Isle of home is always on your mind."
A single tear streaked down the frozen expression of a weeping gargoyle statue.
He wanted to go home.