Thread: -Rocky Soil- Hahvoc and Jaqueline

It had been a good couple years since he had bothered to wander the wounded and bleeding city. The people were washed out and angry just like most of the country. It wasn't pretty but people managed to get by. Yet he enjoyed the chaos, the suffering, the rage. He was a unique individual and so he was able to travel alone. Most people didn't unless they wanted to be killed or eaten, but he wasn't like other people or even like the supernatural creatures that had tainted the landscape with their hate and rage. Plus, he preferred his own company rather than the company of miscreants even if he himself liked to stir up a little bit of chaos. Plus, he was the only one of his kind that had survived. It wasn't like many of his kind could be made anyways. They weren't like dragons or vampires or werewolves. They weren't like humans or Drow or elves. He was a half-breed. He was an AngelDemon hybrid which was rare in and of itself- especially with the War. He had been born years and years ago, before preternatural creatures were even heard of minus fairy tales and Harlequin romances. Before they were the monstrosities they were today. Before they were the beautiful destructive deviants that tormented humans and their kin alike. In this lifetime, he made attempts to restore balance. That was his purpose, after all. He was designed to find the balance between taint and innocence, stealing bits of soul from those who were tainted far beyond what they normally would have been to taint some that were far too innocent and nave to be kept alive for much longer. The tainted and corrupted were part of his domain and he saved innocents when he could. But where was the fun in saving all the innocents? He had been given the darkness that went with his demonic fathers blood and kept only innocence of face and maybe some of his mothers morality. Otherwise, he was a Demon tainted with Angelic blood. Yet he preferred it. He had abilities and weaknesses that were hard to determine and it made him deadly. He wasnt the strongest half-breed or supernatural creature but he wasnt far from the top. Yet he liked the quiet life. Much as he loved his destruction and chaos, blood and death, he needed some peace. He wasnt just some crazy half-breed, after all. Walking along a barely-there-path, Hatter scoped out the scenery. Most of the vegetation was dead or decaying and the buildings and homes were dilapidated at best. Some of the remnants of the human population fought amongst themselves and stole like thieves in a graveyard. It was sickeningly lovely and Hatter drank it all in. But he needed his tea, and that was what mattered. At least his dark aura kept even stupid humans away from him as he was finely dressed in a gentlemans suit in dark reds and blacks. He didnt have a cane, as that was impractical. He loved his Victorian outfits and found it sad that it was such a lost place in time. He knew some fellows who shared his views, but that time was long gone. At least he could still get the clothes and the finery he enjoyed. As he came upon a small shop that boasted herbs and leaves, he knew he had found his place of salvation. He had run out of his tea leaves and needed something to get him by until he could find another place to go. As he entered, he noticed a Dryad just chilling there all nonchalant. He smelled of fresh flowers and clean water and earth. It drew Hatter like a bee to honey. He just wanted to smell and taste the air around him like it was a fine wine. He didnt quite speak yet, but just took the Dryad in.