Hibernation, Øystein Sture Aspelund

Hooray! Finally got around to putting my Amanda Conner prints in a (slightly less terrible) frame!

The images are from the Gargoyles comics by Marvel (Way before Disney actually owned them lol). They’re both 11″x17″ and signed by the artist.

I got these bad boys approximately 1,000 years ago when I met Miss Conner at Dragon*Con. What a talent (and a very nice person)!

Now to find a place of honor on the wall…

Alfons Mucha

The stirring of Aspen leaves And the wind, heavy with the sweetness of October aster And the way it all falls to silence

// Part 36

Goliath really out there cradling Elisas hair and back with both his arms in plain view for hudson and angela to see. is he, dare i say, a slut?

lights in the trees.

A quick-not-so-quick illustration about Elisa and Goliath. I am torn between these two different colors. Which one do you like? 1 or 2?

I keep thinking about Gargoyles/Office kind of stuff and realized that Demona and Jan are very similar that it's almost scary, because I just remembered all the bullshit Jan put Michael through.

Here's a totally Gaxlay brained scenario-Elisa gets hit on constantly by other male gargoyles, but is totally oblivious to the flirting. And Goliath tries very hard to let his jealousy show.

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.