 |
| Timothy Alexander Steele |
| The First of the Gothic Winged Wariors |
| Flight is given to Gothics at birth. We fly and levitate with out wings at will. Having been born a Gothic I have never been a stranger to flight. I was not however born with wings. None of my family were. My wings were got through blood infussion, a procsess through which blood on blood contact results in dominant genetics dominating the host body of new DNA. This proscess accured 600 years ago when I was ten years of age. The blood that was infused into my system was infused unintesionally through a cut in my foot. The kind of blood infused was from a Female Salt Water Dreagoness. |
 |
| Where as I was still at a tender age, the affects were permenant. That of course was not the part that frightened my father. The part that frightened him was dragons rage. I had a hatred toward the human male to begin with because I saw them as foul. That veiw however took on a new face with the rage. I would become furiouse at small things the man would that normaly would have been shruged off. The rage would then turn to physical violance. I would strike, kill, and eat the unfortionate fool. With new eye sight that alloud me to find pins on the ground from the sky I was able to spot a foul look on a mans face while I was flying above. If such a move was made and I saw it, crushed would he be under my feet in seconds. |
|
| For four hundred years I was feared by many and loved by few. Then my rage retreated to another part of my mind, enabling me to controll my fury. In the last hundred years I have been openly accepted into human society as a person and an odessy. But there are still a few things that can trigger the rage and I will not name them here. |
 |
|
|
 |
| Still as yet many are they who fear and hate me. I am still gothic, always will be and there is no doubt in my mind I was ment to be what I am. Human society would have you beleive otherwise concerning the desiny of my present state and have it appear as though I am a misfit deformity. Thats their way of feeling sorry for me. Nice but not so nice. The way I see it is that if you can't handle reality and the reality is not yourself you have the choice to not look. In my case, I don't have any choice but to look and I see someone whom is unmistakably Gothic and I would not have it any other way. |
 |
| Most of my life I have prefered to live in the forest, away from mankind. With me to keep my company would be a mate, my children and my childe. My childe came about when I discovered I could infuse my "curse" of wings and Gothic power through my bite. The men I would attack would become what I was; a Winged Warior Gothic. |
 |
 |
|
|
 |
 |
|
|
|