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Brock and Renard's Super Gargoyle Growth Drive - Finale
Holy cow, guys, Renard and I really didn't expect such a great response to the last round for this drive! Thanks a ton to everyone who voted, and a special shout-out to our donors, in alphabetical order:
Bm0321, ChesireFox, CrowMagnon, DracoWhale, Drakin, KaelDragonblood, MuscleDragonWolf18, Nichara, Nocturne, ParaBluePixel, PumpedAaron, Skarlath, Skyshot101, SlanderousMist, TobyManic, TylerFurlong, Valeyard, WinterWight, and Zandenel!
You guys helped us make Brooklyn a nearly five-ton behemoth (and helped the two of us out with a few bills as a bonus!). But don't think you've seen the last of Brooklyn yet; there's still one more loose end to tie. We'll be contacting our highest donor to help them claim their prize, a commission of the character of their choice with Brooklyn at any size they want, and a story to go with it! Stay tuned!
Most nations are defined by their first leader. The United States did its best to follow George Washington’s model for centuries, the Roman Emperors were all measured against the legacy of Caesar Augustus, and Great Britain traces its traditions back to William the Conqueror. If the Gargoyle Nation were to emulate its first leader, though, then no gargoyle would be airborne for generations to come.
When Brooklyn returned from Avalon, Goliath gave his blessing to the new Clan Leader shortly before waddling to the kitchen. From that moment, the partying seemed to be non-stop. It was natural for the gargoyle leader to want to celebrate his victory, but then the celebrations dragged on for two weeks. Shortly after, it was everyone’s confirmed suspicion that Brooklyn was inventing reasons to celebrate. On one hand, some were convinced it was a political strategy; constantly entertaining foreign dignitaries at these lavish feasts was a good way to stay on good terms with the international community, after all. But more than a few saw just how much Brooklyn ate at these feasts… and the effect it was having on him.
It was two months in when Lexington started to grow suspicious; Brooklyn seemed to hardly move from his place in the Great Hall, and was almost never seen without food. Lexington, who was taking on more and more of Brooklyn’s duties as Clan Leader as his red rookery brother gorged himself, would do his best to keep an eye on Brooklyn. There were times when he swore he heard Puck skulking around, whispering to Brooklyn in the Great Hall… but when he went to inspect, he only found two new additions to the clan milling about and chatting with Brooklyn; additions that he didn’t remember being introduced to. Brooklyn had grown to such an extent that the torc he had taken from Lexington was now too small, unable to find a purchase in the blubbery folds of his chins. There came a day when he found the gold artifact lying on the floor, and Brooklyn barely seemed to notice. In fact, those two new strange gargoyles almost seemed to be purposely drawing his attention away from it with the promise of more food. Never taking his eyes off them, Lexington slowly made his way into the Great Hall and reclaimed the torc. Something was going on with those two, and if anyone was going to be ready for it, it might as well be him.
But whatever plot Lexington was preparing for, it never came. The feasts continued unabated, and although no one wanted to say anything, it was obvious that Brooklyn wasn’t moving from the Great Hall by choice.
A year later, and the clan was finally settling into a routine. Every action taken was still done in Brooklyn’s name, but unless it was another feast, everyone knew who the orders were really coming from. Lexington was still determined to track down the mysterious two gargoyles that always seemed to be around Brooklyn when no one else was, urging him to eat more and more. Just what were they up to? If he ever caught them, they would certainly be in for a world of pain; Lexington had exploded with a newfound strength; every part of his over-sized body was roped with smothering amounts of muscle. He could no longer wear the torc around his neck, because, with the mountain range of muscles that were his shoulders, he had none to speak of. He only barely managed to fit the trinket around his ham-sized forearm, and there it stayed, rubbing against a swollen bicep.
He lumbered into the Great Hall, and looked at his Clan Leader; or the massive, gelatinous blob that had his Clan Leader trapped inside. Straddling his mattress-sized, pillowy chest was another of the stranger additions to the clan; Bryan, from the Lavender Town Clan. He definitely stood out; a splash of bright and hot pinks, with a thick, fluffy mane framing his dog-like face and a puffy pompadour that crowned his head. He wore outrageous sunglasses, even indoors, and was never without a tray of cupcakes; which he claimed were his specialty. Brooklyn couldn’t get enough of them.
“Come on… surely you can take one more, can’t you, boss?” Bryan asked, tempting Brooklyn with another pink cupcake.
Lazily, almost begrudgingly, Brooklyn lifted his heavy head, his multiple chins bunching up and squishing his billowy cheeks. He only rumbled, and snapped up the cupcake, before laying his head back down. “Mmph… ‘nother…” Brooklyn mumbled. He could rarely be made to talk after a binge eating session like this.
Lexington sighed, filling up his cliff-face of a chest. “Bryan? Brooks? Have you seen two gargoyles around here?”
“Which ones?” Bryan asked.
“Lotsa… urph… gargoyles ‘round here, Lex,” Brooklyn slurred. He was hardly recognizable; a great, red whale of a gargoyle, with a titanic belly that could fill the room. His legs, swaddled in an obscene amount of lard, were next to useless. His fat little feet didn’t even reach the floor. And his arms, when he could be bothered to move them, were not that far behind, wobbling and jiggling with the slightest provocation.
“They’re the two weird ones that keep popping up in between your meals, Brooks.”
“Uh…” Brooklyn pulled a blank expression, blinking with half-closed eyes.
“Oh, he’s just tired.” Bryan patted Brooklyn’s chipmunk cheek. “Maybe he just needs some sugar? I can whip up another batch of cupcakes…”
Brooklyn’s arms waved weakly, a dimpled smile coming to his face. “Yeah, yeah… that sounds good.”
“Alright! Well, just take this last one from this batch…” Bryan held out the last cupcake he had on him.
“Seriously, Brooks, they have to be in here,” Lexington urged. “I saw them come in, but didn’t see anyone come out.”
“I, uh… felt something down by my… mmph…” Brooklyn paused to snap up the cupcake. “By… urph, by my feet.”
Lexington gasped. “Brooks, did you roll over on someone again?”
“It’s not so bad. It’s pretty soft, actually!” Bryan said cheerfully.
Lexington dug his hands into the folds of Brooklyn’s belly and, tensing his mammoth arms, began lifting tremendous amounts of belly fat overhead, his swollen arms and shoulders pressing up against his cheeks as his chin dug into his pecs. “No one better be hiding in there!” he warned.
If Brooklyn’s belly fat felt heavier than usual, it was because Lexington was also supporting two extra persons as he lifted. One was a cat-like gargoyle with a white mane and green scales. He was impeccably dressed, and his eyes flashed a different color every time the light hit him. He swirled around a tall champagne glass, his ever-present smile growing wider. “Do you think he’ll find us?”
“If the pink puffball couldn’t, I don’t think Muscles will,” his partner-in-crime smirked. He was a more portly gargoyle with wings wrapped under his arms, and a mischievous smirk and flashing blue eyes hidden under a straw hat. He swilled back a can of beer. “Never thought we’d make a good team, Fops.”
“Yes, well, enemy of my enemy and all that, Mr. Goldste--” The green gargoyle smiled. “Forgive me, Mr. Brock.”
Brock smirked. “Glad to see we’re on friendlier terms, Theo. How long does Pucky-boy’s vacation last, again?”
“He should be back any day now, I believe. Think he’ll have learned his lesson about tricking us into babysitting the Xanatos brat for a year?”
Brock wobbled his hand. “Ehh… a couple hundred more pounds will do, really drive the point home you don’t mess with guys like us. On each of the gargoyles, mind.”
“Oh, at least, Mr. Brock. The very least.”
The two toasted, and grinned down at Lexington burrowing deeper into Brooklyn’s belly in his vain search to find them.
Bm0321, ChesireFox, CrowMagnon, DracoWhale, Drakin, KaelDragonblood, MuscleDragonWolf18, Nichara, Nocturne, ParaBluePixel, PumpedAaron, Skarlath, Skyshot101, SlanderousMist, TobyManic, TylerFurlong, Valeyard, WinterWight, and Zandenel!
You guys helped us make Brooklyn a nearly five-ton behemoth (and helped the two of us out with a few bills as a bonus!). But don't think you've seen the last of Brooklyn yet; there's still one more loose end to tie. We'll be contacting our highest donor to help them claim their prize, a commission of the character of their choice with Brooklyn at any size they want, and a story to go with it! Stay tuned!
Art by Yours Truly
Story by 
renard_defleureax
Bryan belongs to 
bm0321
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renard_defleureax
bm0321Most nations are defined by their first leader. The United States did its best to follow George Washington’s model for centuries, the Roman Emperors were all measured against the legacy of Caesar Augustus, and Great Britain traces its traditions back to William the Conqueror. If the Gargoyle Nation were to emulate its first leader, though, then no gargoyle would be airborne for generations to come.
When Brooklyn returned from Avalon, Goliath gave his blessing to the new Clan Leader shortly before waddling to the kitchen. From that moment, the partying seemed to be non-stop. It was natural for the gargoyle leader to want to celebrate his victory, but then the celebrations dragged on for two weeks. Shortly after, it was everyone’s confirmed suspicion that Brooklyn was inventing reasons to celebrate. On one hand, some were convinced it was a political strategy; constantly entertaining foreign dignitaries at these lavish feasts was a good way to stay on good terms with the international community, after all. But more than a few saw just how much Brooklyn ate at these feasts… and the effect it was having on him.
It was two months in when Lexington started to grow suspicious; Brooklyn seemed to hardly move from his place in the Great Hall, and was almost never seen without food. Lexington, who was taking on more and more of Brooklyn’s duties as Clan Leader as his red rookery brother gorged himself, would do his best to keep an eye on Brooklyn. There were times when he swore he heard Puck skulking around, whispering to Brooklyn in the Great Hall… but when he went to inspect, he only found two new additions to the clan milling about and chatting with Brooklyn; additions that he didn’t remember being introduced to. Brooklyn had grown to such an extent that the torc he had taken from Lexington was now too small, unable to find a purchase in the blubbery folds of his chins. There came a day when he found the gold artifact lying on the floor, and Brooklyn barely seemed to notice. In fact, those two new strange gargoyles almost seemed to be purposely drawing his attention away from it with the promise of more food. Never taking his eyes off them, Lexington slowly made his way into the Great Hall and reclaimed the torc. Something was going on with those two, and if anyone was going to be ready for it, it might as well be him.
But whatever plot Lexington was preparing for, it never came. The feasts continued unabated, and although no one wanted to say anything, it was obvious that Brooklyn wasn’t moving from the Great Hall by choice.
A year later, and the clan was finally settling into a routine. Every action taken was still done in Brooklyn’s name, but unless it was another feast, everyone knew who the orders were really coming from. Lexington was still determined to track down the mysterious two gargoyles that always seemed to be around Brooklyn when no one else was, urging him to eat more and more. Just what were they up to? If he ever caught them, they would certainly be in for a world of pain; Lexington had exploded with a newfound strength; every part of his over-sized body was roped with smothering amounts of muscle. He could no longer wear the torc around his neck, because, with the mountain range of muscles that were his shoulders, he had none to speak of. He only barely managed to fit the trinket around his ham-sized forearm, and there it stayed, rubbing against a swollen bicep.
He lumbered into the Great Hall, and looked at his Clan Leader; or the massive, gelatinous blob that had his Clan Leader trapped inside. Straddling his mattress-sized, pillowy chest was another of the stranger additions to the clan; Bryan, from the Lavender Town Clan. He definitely stood out; a splash of bright and hot pinks, with a thick, fluffy mane framing his dog-like face and a puffy pompadour that crowned his head. He wore outrageous sunglasses, even indoors, and was never without a tray of cupcakes; which he claimed were his specialty. Brooklyn couldn’t get enough of them.
“Come on… surely you can take one more, can’t you, boss?” Bryan asked, tempting Brooklyn with another pink cupcake.
Lazily, almost begrudgingly, Brooklyn lifted his heavy head, his multiple chins bunching up and squishing his billowy cheeks. He only rumbled, and snapped up the cupcake, before laying his head back down. “Mmph… ‘nother…” Brooklyn mumbled. He could rarely be made to talk after a binge eating session like this.
Lexington sighed, filling up his cliff-face of a chest. “Bryan? Brooks? Have you seen two gargoyles around here?”
“Which ones?” Bryan asked.
“Lotsa… urph… gargoyles ‘round here, Lex,” Brooklyn slurred. He was hardly recognizable; a great, red whale of a gargoyle, with a titanic belly that could fill the room. His legs, swaddled in an obscene amount of lard, were next to useless. His fat little feet didn’t even reach the floor. And his arms, when he could be bothered to move them, were not that far behind, wobbling and jiggling with the slightest provocation.
“They’re the two weird ones that keep popping up in between your meals, Brooks.”
“Uh…” Brooklyn pulled a blank expression, blinking with half-closed eyes.
“Oh, he’s just tired.” Bryan patted Brooklyn’s chipmunk cheek. “Maybe he just needs some sugar? I can whip up another batch of cupcakes…”
Brooklyn’s arms waved weakly, a dimpled smile coming to his face. “Yeah, yeah… that sounds good.”
“Alright! Well, just take this last one from this batch…” Bryan held out the last cupcake he had on him.
“Seriously, Brooks, they have to be in here,” Lexington urged. “I saw them come in, but didn’t see anyone come out.”
“I, uh… felt something down by my… mmph…” Brooklyn paused to snap up the cupcake. “By… urph, by my feet.”
Lexington gasped. “Brooks, did you roll over on someone again?”
“It’s not so bad. It’s pretty soft, actually!” Bryan said cheerfully.
Lexington dug his hands into the folds of Brooklyn’s belly and, tensing his mammoth arms, began lifting tremendous amounts of belly fat overhead, his swollen arms and shoulders pressing up against his cheeks as his chin dug into his pecs. “No one better be hiding in there!” he warned.
If Brooklyn’s belly fat felt heavier than usual, it was because Lexington was also supporting two extra persons as he lifted. One was a cat-like gargoyle with a white mane and green scales. He was impeccably dressed, and his eyes flashed a different color every time the light hit him. He swirled around a tall champagne glass, his ever-present smile growing wider. “Do you think he’ll find us?”
“If the pink puffball couldn’t, I don’t think Muscles will,” his partner-in-crime smirked. He was a more portly gargoyle with wings wrapped under his arms, and a mischievous smirk and flashing blue eyes hidden under a straw hat. He swilled back a can of beer. “Never thought we’d make a good team, Fops.”
“Yes, well, enemy of my enemy and all that, Mr. Goldste--” The green gargoyle smiled. “Forgive me, Mr. Brock.”
Brock smirked. “Glad to see we’re on friendlier terms, Theo. How long does Pucky-boy’s vacation last, again?”
“He should be back any day now, I believe. Think he’ll have learned his lesson about tricking us into babysitting the Xanatos brat for a year?”
Brock wobbled his hand. “Ehh… a couple hundred more pounds will do, really drive the point home you don’t mess with guys like us. On each of the gargoyles, mind.”
“Oh, at least, Mr. Brock. The very least.”
The two toasted, and grinned down at Lexington burrowing deeper into Brooklyn’s belly in his vain search to find them.
Category All / Fat Furs
Species Gargoyle
Size 1250 x 694px
File Size 590.4 kB
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