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A soul lost in Purgatory, she isn't a dainty princess or a stone cold killer. Darcia is feminine and elegant, but she could easily snap and kill you in a matter of seconds. She has hardened herself, using her looks to manipulate those who are weak. She has a cold outer shell that is hard to penetrate, walls she's built so high she doesn't even know anymore what's on the other side. She suffers from nightmares due to her time in Purgatory, shortly after her escape she fell into a depression. She avoids everyone else as they could not comprehend her power, the reason for her banishment. A child of an Angel and a Demon - a powerful hybrid that should not exist.
Darcia and Zachariel
Before his mighty fall, Zachariel was a classically symbolical angel. He experienced little emotion-- just a solider of the lord, a pawn of a higher being. He followed every order to the T, leading him to the blessed position of being one of heavens favorite, despite being the youngest Archangel to that day. He was trusted with a very important job: safely leading souls to where they belong. Heaven, Hell --and in some extreme cases--Purgatory. He'd never had a say in where the souls were placed, but it cause him any aggravation. He trusted his father to know what was perfect for the person, as that was how he was taught. For the first time in his life he felt an irrefutable desire to go against his childhood teachings, all because a mare came waltzing into his life. Her name was Darcia. He had watched her in the mortal world she knew as her own since she was a year old. He had observed her maturity into a new version of herself when she was three years, and admired her strength in beauty despite the typically crippling changes. It was especially amusing to Zachariel that this mare danced with the Reaper, taunting him when she got to close. He was painfully aware that her time was nearly expired, but he lived in hope that she would live longer. When she finally fell, he led her to his father with a solemn expression. He expected her to go to Heaven, sure she had done bad things, but everyone had sinned at least once in their life. When judgement fell, he was dismayed. She was to be taken to Purgatory, to live a fate worse than hell and rot until she was hardly recognizable as the strong soul she was before.
That was the first time Zachariel had disobeyed his father--he spoke out of turn and was promptly punished for it. Without further disobedience, he led her to Perdition begrudgingly, despite her many questions and obvious fear—and left her without explanation. As time went on, and as deceased were lead to their Judgement day, a growing itch grew in the back of his mind. Even as he led souls to their new destination she was in his every thought and action--he knew down to his core her judgment was wrong, but he couldn't resist the Creator’s will. Disobedience to the creator would lead to a fate worse than Purgatory. He'd be going against everything he knew, everyone who cherished him and taught him his ways. However, his sense of justice was stronger than his obedience, and he left his position in front of Heaven's gates to search the depths of Purgatory. When he found Darcia—his Darcia-- she was half dead and torn apart, but still fighting for her life. He rescued her, taking her back to her mortal home on Earth, where he knew she could live safely. He took the liberation upon himself to heal her, but she attacked him with violence and vehemence, thinking he was there give her a worse punishment. After discreet some reassurance, she complied to his offer of generosity with eager aptness.
He protected the home which he placed her, taking his leave back to heaven. He returned to his post, acting as though nothing had changed. It seemed like his whole life had passed before he was called before The Creator himself. He was excommunicated, stripped of his grace, and cast down to Earth to live a mortal life. When he regained consciousness, his vision was gone. He could no longer see color, or the shapes he had familiarized himself with. When he looked at people he saw their aura –only as shadowed beasts, or celestial entities. Being a Fallen Angel, he was afraid and vulnerable. He ran blindly, and attacked anyone who came near him, good intentions or not.
He felt emotions for the first time, like adrenaline rushing through his veins. He felt heartache, grief, rage, envy, euphoria--all at once as one devastating emotion. Then she came, Darcia, with a gentle voice. She was different, older than when he had last saw her, and he realized that time in Heaven must be different than time her. It hit him instantly - he could see her, really see her. Not the aura of good or evil - but her. He saw her trusting eyes, and sloping neck; he saw her soft muzzle and dainty hooves; he saw her brindled coat—he saw the being she was, mortal, and beautifully exquisite in appearance and personality. Compassion practically radiated from her aura, soothing his senses and tuning down every immoral emotion he felt. She took care of him, nursed him to health and coaxed him into the real world as he had done for her. She taught him everything she could, of how life worked, how he would have to adapt. He wasn't the mare he banished to Purgatory, not anymore, and he wasn't the same Archangel she met on her Judgement Day.
You apparently ate something bad last night, and you just flop on the ground. Darcia comes up to you and asks if you want anything. She brings you some grass and water, and sits next to you until you feel better.
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