This is the gift to ChesireFox, the Gargoyle Growth Drive's highest donor! Much appreciated, man! That is a big Brooklyn.

Arren belongs to  ChesireFox
Story by  Renard_DeFleureax and  Nocturne
Art by Yours Truly

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It had been two years since Brooklyn’s triumphant return from Avalon, and now, one of the Manhattan Clan’s youngest members was coming home. Like an increasing number of the clan, he was sadly grounded, as the feline-esque gargoyle Arren had grown too large for his wings. The formerly svelte gargoyle had grown into an overly burly specimen; his time abroad had been spent studying the arts, including the culinary. His arms, shoulders, and chest were still roped with heavy muscle, but his stout legs were carrying a large drum of a belly. Curiously, he was also carrying two giant gold bands hanging from his arms, that looked bigger than his waist. They were adorned with intricate engravings, showing the Manhattan Clan’s new insignia; a clawed fist and gargoyle wings.

As he weaved through the halls of Castle Wyvern, he exchanged quick and friendly greetings with several of his clan members, but he was set on seeing one particular gargoyle; his clan leader. The last he had seen of the clan leader had left quite an impression on the ‘baby’ gargoyle. Brooklyn had been a mass of soft, lush adipose after his return, a veritable mountain compared to anyone else in the clan, though that wasn’t for lack of effort on their parts. If not for the aid of many of the clan it would have been surprising that their leader wouldn’t eat them out of house and home, or simply fill their home with his more than considerable girth. Never without a snack, which for Brooklyn would have been the equivalent of a two course meal, it was as though life was an endless buffet with one hell of an overzealous cook at the helm.

Walking into the leader’s sprawling room, the biggest for reasons that were painfully obvious, Arren was greeted by a staggering sight. His time abroad hadn’t been long in terms of a gargoyle’s life, but in that time the leader of the Manhattan Clan had flourished beyond reason. If Brooklyn had been a mountain before he was certainly reaching Everest proportions now. Much of the room was dominated by his heaving, rolling belly, a churning mass that seemed to be ever working on some bit of food he had consumed. Above that wall of gut rested his chest, a pair of sloping sacks of fat and just a bit further up were several large chins, or neck rolls, it wasn’t easy to distinguish exactly where one stopped and the other began. His enormous cheeks wobbled as a smile spread across the red gargoyle’s face, lips smeared with what looked like icing as he gulped what one might have guessed was a wedding cake.

“Arren! It's been too long, welcome home. I’d get up to give you a proper welcome, but uh...not entirely in the cards,” he let out a deep, booming laugh before burping softly.

“It certainly has been a while, Brooklyn. I s-see that things have been going well here in the castle.” The comparatively small gargoyle made his way closer to the mound of burgeoning blubber in front of him, having to actually climb over a series of lower rolls to make his way toward Brooklyn’s face to get a better look. “You’ve most definitely been enjoying things…” he managed to get out, trying not to let his hands linger too long on his leader.

“Well, life has been going pretty well, no maniacs trying to wipe out the entire clan or gargoyles as a whole so a lot less to worry abo-URP! Ooof, excuse me, sorry, caught me right after a li’l snack.” His tongue quickly snaked out, sliding over his beak to clean away any of the icing that remained before smacking them together.

“A snack? Erm...how to put this...did you get it yourself?” He bit his lip gently, glancing downward at the massive gargoyle that he was essentially standing on top of.

“No, that hasn’t been something I’ve done in quite some time. A lot of it just gets brought to me, sometimes before I even ask for it, but I’m not complaining about that,” he winked before grunting as his belly let out a deep growl. “Oh, guess that snack wasn’t enough. Hm...nothing left in the room. Guess I’ll have to give a holler for more.”

Arren frowned softly before clearing his throat. “What if you didn’t have to call for more? What if you could get it yourself?”

Brooklyn lifted an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Well that’d be nice and all, but I don’t think that that’s really possible given all of what you’re standing on.” His eyes slowly fell from Arren toward his body, or as much of it as he could glance at given the sheer amount of fat ringing about his head.

“Perhaps I can help with that. I just need you to stay still for a bit,” he got out before it dawned on him how silly it was to even say. “I’ll just get to work.” Flushing softly, he hefted up the bracers he had brought with him, moving to one side of the monstrously obese gargoyle to find his arm nearly lost in the swaddling lard of his side. With a bit of pushing he just barely managed to force the bracer over what would have most likely been Brooklyn’s wrist if not for there being enough fat on it to be wider around than Arren himself. Making his way back across it took a bit more time before the second bracer was in place. “S-sorry if this is uncomfortable, but it should feel a bit less tight shortly.”

The vast gargoyle winced a little as the bracers popped on, fat spilling around and over them as his tubby fingers wiggled. “I’m not sure how accessorizing is going to help the situa...tion?” A soft burning was beginning in his arms, starting where the bands rested and flowing up into the core of his body. It grew stronger, hotter, but the sensation wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Little by little he could feel it rising to the surface, his body like a sauna as he let out a deep groan. While he hadn’t been able to move in months he instinctively found himself trying to reach and grab at the bands, but what shocked him the most was that he found his arms moving. While it was slow, he could see his arm lifting, eyes going wide in shock as he watched the thick layer of fat covering it giving way to something solid. Heavy muscle was rising, his chest beginning to push out instead of simply sagging downward, the thick rings of fat around his head beginning to be replaced by a neck that he’d long since forgotten. His legs felt stronger, coiling muscle bulging as he felt power surging into him, slowly beginning to tilt forward onto his large feet as his thighs continued to swell. Both his arms began to crash into the sides of his chest as he rose up, dense muscle covering the limbs. While muscle was rising, his belly didn’t seem to be leaving; that hulking mass of fat simply looked a bit less imposing on his more solid frame.

“Heh… now this is something I haven’t seen in a long time,” Brooklyn growled, flexing his arm until his mammoth bicep swelled, rubbing against the gold bands clamped around his tree-trunk thick wrists. Standing at his full height, he was in danger of his horns brushing against the cavernous ceiling.

Experimenting with his powerful arms, Brooklyn almost didn’t notice as he brought up a passenger, riding his swelled bicep as he flexed again. Arren blushed, smiling meekly. “I-I can do more experiments… it’ll just take some time.” The red gargoyle hardly noticed that Arren almost never looked him in the eye, instead traversing all over his vast expanse.

“Well, heck. How could I say no to that?”