Super Rough Draft
Goliath-Centric
Basically, writing stuff about Goliath's parents and his wonderful home life. And generational trauma.
: - )
ANGST!
Gargoyles did not claim parentage to their children. Hatchlings were children of the clan, raised up and cared for by the village. It was considered selfish to do otherwise.
"We are a community, we need to operate like one. Just as a hive cannot be sustained by one bee. Just as the nest of an ant cannot be ruled only by a sole queen, everyone has their part to play, everyone has a role, a service to do. It is the way of our people."
An elder once said to him.
Then did that mean his mother was selfish?
Lia.
His mother. She had claimed him for her own against every warning she should not. But, she did not care and his clan did not much care for her. His mother was an outsider, but literally and metaphorically. Hudson had found her, half starving and bloodied by a river bank and took pity of her. She said she had hailed from a clan faraway where the land was barren and mountainous, but she did not speak of it more, she had no desire to return, she had ran away and never looked back.
And while his clan was gracious enough to allow her refuge they never truly accepted her. And his mother never really made an effort to build any bridges between them and her. She was a loner and kept to herself.
His clan was content to leave her and not pay her any mind. Until she claimed his egg for her own.
The elders were not happy about it and voiced their discontent.
"Those are not our ways"
"They may be yours, but they are not mine. I abide by no one's rules, but my own"
The elders of Clan Wyvern kicked up a fuss, but it is not as though they did much about it. Or could do anything about it, given that the clan leader of that time-Samson-did not care and was his father, not that he had much part in raising him.
His younger self never understood why. His mother and father never became a truly mated pair which also struck a nerve with the elders, but they were too afraid of Samson to voice it openly to his face. They had no ceremony and made no real fan fair about it. It often made him wonder if his parents ever liked each other. They never argued, disagreements sometimes, but it never escalated. His mother never had anything bad to say about his father nor did he ever hear his father bad mouth his mother.
They were an odd pair-silent and distant.
There were very few pleasant memories he had of his own father. Some of them vivid, others hazy, his father was a man of very little words and an even shorter temper. He was not very well liked among their clan. He was temperamental, violent almost to the point of being unhinged, and seemingly uncaring about anything else that wasn't killing. And not all that friendly.
There was no one in the clan that he considered friend, Goliath doubted he ever truly trusted anyone. The closest thing to that, probably was Hudson.
And his mother-
Like he said before-their relationship was always a mystery to him.
"I do not think I'm capable of love"
Goliath looked up, meekly, his father was so tall, even while sitting he had to crank his all the way back to catch a glimpse of his face "I do not understand others"
…..
"I hardly understand myself"
"I'm not kind. I only know war, blood-violence is my only expression. I'm not meant to be gentle. Or anything else of that matter" it's the most he's ever heard him speak.
"I cannot not be what you wish me to be"
Goliath ducked his head not knowing what to say "I was never meant to be a father"
Goliath didn't know what he meant to do by telling himself such. He had been so young then, and his father was more an entity of fear than a person to him. He never smiled, never laughed, he was never much of anything. When he wasn't brutalizing his enemies, he'd be alone, carving wood until his hands bled. And while his mother was distant, he can recall the small, quiet smiles she'd give him. Or sometimes she let out a bout of boisterous laughter though those were rare.
Most of the time she was sad. And when she wasn't abrasive towards others, she was stagnant, her face vacant except for the emotions he was far too young to understand.
PREVIEW!
"I'll fly too close to the sun and know that i will burn"
Summary: Goliath promised himself that he'd never get too close to another human ever again. Betrayal had torn his soul, the dead now laid at his wake, wailed in his ear. Never again, he vowed, never again will he trust another human, never again will he call one friend. Then he met Elisa. And despite all his vows and promises, she had wormed her way into his heart, determined to stay there. Determined to stay at his side and he was powerless to stop her.
Perhaps, Demona was right about one thing-he is a fool. He's like Icarus flying far too close to the sun for his own good. He can't count how many times he's been burned and crashed into the sea; over and over again he finds himself at the mercy of her thrashing, unforgiving waves threatening to hurl him into the sharp rocks.
-To paint her precious aquamarine crimson with his blood.
-
"Would you change it?"
He thought about it. It's not like he had to. But-
"No," he answers "I know what the humans meant when they gave me my name. But, it's become a part of me, something I cannot change, even if I wanted to. I can't imagine being called anything other than Goliath. It is who I am. Besides it's not as if the name wasn't partially warranted" Elisa looks at him again, longer this time. Her brows knot at the center of her forehead.
"What do you mean?" Goliath briefly curses himself. Of course she'd ask. Of course she noticed. He did not know why he brought it to light to begin with. It was neither the place nor the time, it isn't even something he wished to discuss with her. At least not now. Not here. Not any sooner if he was to be honest with himself.
"I-" words failed him "I was a troubled adolescent back then. I often let my temper get the best of me in the worst possible ways. I wasn't exactly a very nice person during those years"
She eyed him with doubt "I find that hard to believe"
"People feared me, Elisa."
"I know-"
"And with good reason" he watches her lips fall shut "but that's a story for another time. I don't know why I brought it up to begin with. It's neither here nor now" there's an edge in his voice, he knows damn well Elisa could hear it. If he could kick himself he would. He did a nice job souring the mood between them. This isn't what he wanted or intended.
"I-I see" she moves some hair behind her ear, her teeth brush over her bottom lip. The action brings his attention to them "I-I'm gonna get some punch"
"Elisa-"
"I'll be back" she waves him off. Her smile is a little force and Goliath is fully aware that he skewered his chance. Shot himself in the foot, screwed himself over by shoving his foot not just in his mouth but down his very throat. He was choking, but did not know how to free himself.
Her back retreated into the crowd, a colorful wash of white and ebony, he wanted nothing more than to chase after her, but saw no good coming out of that. Instead he ran a hand down his face as he growled at himself. He really is a fool, a damn good one.
-
“Morning light can make the most vulgar things tolerable” — the secret history, by donna tartt.
Brünnich’s guillemot Colony
I more or less got the hang of drawing Matt so here’s these two having a chat over coffee at lunch