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-Rocky Soil- Hahvoc and Jaqueline

Jaqueline

Supernova
Joined
Dec 23, 2010
Location
Char
Most of the Marigolds bloomed today. Smog would roll in and out of the town now and again, choking the air and stinking the eyes. No legitimately hospitable topsoil could be found even five miles from the city in all directions. The earth was cracked and dry, full of rocks and broken concrete. Despite this, Erat managed to coax his patch of Marigold's to life every spring, and the Lavenders were soon to follow. He carefully went through with his basket, picking healthy petals. Soon he had a lovely little pile of bright vibrant petals. He pushed himself up from his kneeling position and brushed the dirt off his knee. He looked over his garden. It was slow going, even with his influence over plant life, he could barely get them to grow as well s they did. It was not very large, only about twenty feet by twenty feet, thick with flowers. He was the only one who sold them though, so they fetched a high price. His most prized charge was the sapling of a tree he had between the two rows. A young Oak he had found near the lake, and he knew it would not live if it stayed there.

He took in a deep breath and quickly regretted it. The air in this city was downright toxic. Every year he could feel it just get worse, pollution increasing in the air and the nearby lake was just a sludge heap, thick and almost rubbery in consistency. He was the last Nymph in the city that he knew of. Everyone else had moved on to greener pastures, sure that anywhere would be better than here. He supposed they were right. This city was at the center of the war, much of it was ruin and rubble. What was left standing was turf of constant gang wars and coated in a layer of garbage. No one cared anymore. Wiping his nose he went back into his house. Well, half a house. The structure still stood, but it was bisected. He lived in the half that still existed. The other half was gone completely. He usually slept outside next to his Oak Tree, in his garden. The house was really just for storage of water, clothes and such.

Just passing through his home out the door and climbed over a pile of rubble. He kept to himself on a more secluded part of town, one that got hit hard by the war. Most buildings were just a crumbled heap, no one wanted to live in this part of the city. It was quiet. He liked it. He started walking. About an hour later he hit the more populated part of town. There were people on the street, few walked alone, often sticking to groups. It wasn't safe to walk alone, not with all the bad blood. Humans liked to gang up on Supernaturals and beat them if they are alone, and lone humans would often find themselves a snack to a grouchy dragon or vampire.

He entered the shop of the local Alchemist, a bell ringing to herald the entrance of a customer. A man behind the counter jumped at the noise and looked panicked, relaxing when he saw the Dryad, "Goodness Erat!" He exclaimed in a high pitched voice, "Nearly scared me to death!"
"I brought the Marigold petals." Erat told him curtly, setting them on the counter.
"Yes, yes." The Alchemist said, looking into the basket, pushing his tiny round glasses up on the bridge of his nose. His eyes were always scrunched up looking, like he was trying to look at something far away or very close up, "How many?"
"56." Erat answered. The man nodded,
"I thought it looked like more than usual! Alright, I'll go in the back and get what I owe you, alright?"
Erat nodded and the human left him alone with the basket and the register. They had been doing this deal for five years now, so Erat was trusted enough.
 
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 Angel/Demon 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 naïve 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 father’s blood and kept only innocence of face and maybe some of his mother’s 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 wasn’t the strongest half-breed or supernatural creature – but he wasn’t 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 wasn’t 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 gentleman’s suit in dark reds and blacks. He didn’t 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 didn’t quite speak yet, but just took the Dryad in.
 
Erat heard the bell ring and he turned his head to look behind him. How strange. He thought to himself. The customer was was dressed in an old fashion, one that the Dryad had not seen in his lifetime. It looked rich and sophisticated, as opposed to Erat's simple grey T-shirt and worn and weary short jeans. Something about him was off, but he did not give off a distinct aura of any kind that the Dryad was sensitive enough to detect. It wasn't a void, like a lack of an aura. More like, it was muted. Like how when you can watch a person with no voice scream and shout. You know it's there, you can feel it, but something is missing. It was like his presence canceled itself out at all times. He just stood there, not saying anything. Erat would not have been so perturbed, even with the man's bizarre...lack of being...if it were not for the fact that he said nothing. Simply watching. Erat tried to brush it off as just waiting in line, though he could feel his eyes on him. Erat stayed facing forward and waited for his money, then he would leave.

The Alchemist returned with the money, setting it on the counter and looking past Erat saw Hatter, "Welcome!" He smiled, which only scrunched his face more, "How can I help you?"
 
"Quite so, citizen," Hatter murmured with a little bit of pep to his voice. His smile was soft but fake. He didn't like to smile and was usually against such pleasantries, but he needed his fix and being unruly was not satisfactory to getting things he needed. Molten orange tinged with red eyes focused on the Alchemist but switched attention to the Dryad frequently with unabashed interest. He would not be swayed from following the man home. He liked his smell, his aura almost completely pure. Nymphs and the like had an almost pure aura which drew creatures like him. It was the Dryad's day that Hatter was the only creature who was intensely drawn or the poor thing would have been capture already. Dryads were very rare these days.

"I am looking to purchase leaves in order to create the fine thirst quencher known as tea. Would you be able to procure some for me? I would be absolutely delighted to take them off your hands and give you proper payment in return," Hatter spoke pleasantly enough, but his attention was hardly on the Alchemist. It seemed that the Dryad had already been targeted by the half-breed's unpredictable fancies. He needed the clean air and the fresh soil, so he was going to follow the being home. What would he do with him? He wasn't quite sure yet, but he wasn't going to leave the poor man alone.
 
"Of course, of course!" The Alchemist nodded and reached to a shelf behind the counter, pulling small cubic boxes down. He set one of each marked with a different letter on the counter to present to Hatter, "Take you pick, what kind do you want? And how much?" He asked, ready to serve in any way. He had a number of customers that were not human, and anyone could actually be a dragon as far as he knew. He always did his best to be accommodating and gracious to those that entered his store so that they would not only want to return for business, but to allow him to live when they leave. He knew better than to ever charge more than he needed to make a profit he could live off of.

His business done, Erat took the money from the counter. He turned on his heel and left the store, glad to escape the look and feel of the richly dressed man. Erat did not like the hollow happiness the man gave, or the way he spoke and that constantly strange feeling he got around the man. He began walking down the street with his basket, on his way home.
 
"A pound of those rich red leaves should suffice along with a half pound of the those black ones. And I'll be happy to give you these..." Reaching into one of his many pockets, Hatter produced three small, but solid gold coins and placed them on the counter. He knew it was technically a lot of money to give the man but his tea was worth it. His eyes tracked the Dryad, feeling that the Alchemist was nervous and he should have been. He kept up his pleasantries knowing full-well that the Dryad was leaving. He didn't have to follow right quick, but he would keep track of him. He already had his scent and aura imprinted on his mind. He could find him anywhere. Perhaps he would play a game? He wasn't quite sure yet. Tapping his gloved fingers on the counter top and waited for the Alchemist to hurry the fuck up so he could be on his way to play with the little Dryad.
 
The alchemist slid one box forward and reached under his counter to pull out a bag, and with a small utensil he dished half of one box into the bag and set it on top of the other box, sliding them across the counter to to the richly dressed man. The rich part seemed to be no illusion, as he was presented three golden coins as payment. The Alchemist's eyes were wide some shock, but mostly a desire to get the coins before the man changed his mind. He took the coins and put them in his pocket, then began returning all of the other things back to their places on the shelf behind the counter.
 
"Just be aware, Alchemist...if you've tried to hold back anything from me, you won't be sleeping ever again." Hatter's eyes had lost the fake joyful glow to show the dark creature underneath for a split second before his charm slid back into place with a mere blink. Smiling broadly, he took the bag and box and waved as he took his leave, singing that he would return again if he was in the area and out of tea. Closing the door behind him with hardly a sound, the half-breed hid the box and bag inside some of his various pockets, shrinking them into proper portions with his outfit. He really did love his magical tailor. He could do such things himself with enough magic, but it was usually just bothersome. These pockets were specifically aligned with his energy so he didn't expel anything that would draw creatures to him and divulge his location. But it wasn't just his clothes that muted his power. He did that all by himself. Without having to think about it.

Taking a deep inhale, Hatter found the trail that the Dryad had left behind and commented to himself that the fucker sure did walk fast. Adjusting his hat, the half-breed took off at a brisk pace in order to keep up a proper distance and catch up with his new found obsession.
 
Cheerfully ready to wave his pleased customer good bye the alchemist's smile melted off and a shiver went down his spine as Hatter gave a display of nightmares through his eyes. In a moment it was gone, and he left, but the man stayed frozen in place, terrified.

Erat was out of range to detect the white noise that was Hatter's aura. He kept a brisk pace to return back to his garden. Beyond tending it he did little else. He never went to more than one shop a day, just to give himself something to do when he was not growing his plants. So he spaced his trips out. It was best not to stay out at night, especially recently where some Vampire and Nightmare turf wars had been getting more frequent and were always ugly. He arrived back at his half of a home and set his money inside a drawer, then went out back to sit in his garden. He knelt down, one hand to the ground, crossed his legs and sat up with his back straight, taking in a deep breath. The only place in the city he knew of where one could get the smell of truly living plant life.
 
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