Hatter's Origin

Mrrrrrow....

Oh sorry, was having fond memories of ear scratches. 

If you have not already guessed, I am the Cheshire Cat.

I have taken over this page for a limited time, for I simply must share with you my findings of our dear Hatter.
I know he doesn't like me much, but I can't blame him for that. 

Anyway.

What i have found will be an explanation of where Hatter came from and how he ended up where he was.

I tried to be as short as possible, but you decide if you wish to read or not! 

So without further a-do, I present to you:

Hatter's Origin

Name: The Mad Hatter.

Age: Unknown.

Height: 7,92 feet/ 2,42 metres.

P.O.R.: Euphoria/Wonderland.

Species: Hat-kin.

Origin:

Hatter comes from a small province called Cravatia, a land riddled with lush thick jungles, little villages and a difficult way of life.

Cravatia is a place that borders Wonderland, and is home to many of Hatter's fellow species, known as the Hat-kin. The reason they earned this name is simply because they always had an affinity for head-wear. Whether it is your normal headscarf, a bowler or top hat, you can never find a hat-kin without one of these on their noggins.

Hatter grew up in a tiny village that was mostly ruled by the local Rigdigger (Or Mayor, if you prefer.) 

This personage they had to pay tribute to on every Snoltsday of every Wrilk. 

(Basically every Sunday of every Week.)

Their way of life was usually simple, and they mostly lived off of the land and made do with what they had.

And the usual trait you'll find in a hat-kin is their creativity.

Anything you'd wish for, they could fashion out of an old tree stump, some simple tools and the leaves of the Furbur trees, which were giant stacked trees with colourful and flourished leaves that would make any passionate painter cry with delight.

Hatter's family was a troubled one, with a past of difficult times, whether it was that they could not keep their home, their land not bearing fruit or a family member would suddenly turn mad and get violent towards both the rest of them or the townsfolk.

Now, I know what you are thinking.

No, Hatter was not that kind of mad.

Hatter had most of what a child could possibly wish for.
A loving and supporting mother, two little sisters who he adored more than anything could possibly measure, a dog that never left his side and a wonderful childhood.

His father was loving too, but when it came to supporting, he always found his father to be just a little lacking.

Mostly about his ambitions, which of course would be hatting.

Hatting was seen as the most common of trades among the hat-kin, and his father wished for him to amount to bigger things like being a farmer or horse racing.

(Yeah, you thought lawyer or doctor, i know you did.)

Hatter always had new ideas for his new hats and was in the making of one that would be the very making of his character, much to his dismay.

In the making of the hat, his father said enough was enough.

The hatting business had to stop, and his father had decided to send him away to a proper school that would teach him in the ways of «honest living».

Since this didn't sit very well with Hatter, his reaction was to put his new hat on in anger, scream and bawl at his father, saying his life's ambition and dreams would not be ruined and swilled by the dimwittedness of a stupid and ignorant father that could not see things from his point of view.

A fight broke out, and in the process his father managed to strike him across the cheek.

Frightened, angry and upset, Hatter ran off into the bordering line of the Tulgey Woods and managed to get himself lost.

Not knowing where to go, he stopped by every Momerath, every Borogove, every nook and cranny, every living creature you could think of, and asked where he should go. Since no one seems to have a direction in Wonderland, his bearings were simply non existent.

As he walked along, he lost his thoughts, and tried to find them again, they seemed to be floating mid air in the form of clouds, and as he was chasing his thoughts, he missed the end of a high reaching root of a tree, tripped and fell into the Glum-Goo-Grove.

The history of the Glum-Goo-Grove is a little vague, but they say that whoever falls into the waters don't usually come back up. And if they ever do, they won't be the same person.

As Hatter fought to get himself up, 

he felt his fear and panic was starting to transform into hilarity and fun, 

his painful and horrified shrieks turned into laughter and song...

And the might he tried to muster to dig himself out with clawing and digging turned into dancing, twisting and joyful spasms.

In this transformation, his body would start to stretch and become longer and bendier, 

his joints movable towards the unending, 

his hair would go from a short brown 

to a long, wavy and green plaited mess.

And while we mention transformations, 

his face would go from a frightened and boyish appearance...

And instead be turned into a freaky, 

wide-eyed, no-lipped grinning shell 

without much else of emotion than overjoyed happiness no matter how he'd feel.

But just as fast as the grove had taken him in, 

not long did it go before it seemed to change its mind about the choice of digesting this creature.

For Hat-kin are not indigenous to Wonderland, 

thus the Grove had not tried this exotic cuisine before.

So just as fast as Hatter had disappeared into the goopy gloomy green goo, 

not long did it take for it to shoot him back out as if spat out on the dinner table for being gone off.

Merely brushing off his shoulders and looking around him, worried more about if anyone would be seeing him in this state, he seemed to not remember a thing of what happened to him.

Locating his hat that had been spat out with him, he placed the now growing famous head-wear onto his head and looked around himself.

One of my sources say that at this point, he went to locate a stick, simply bit at the wood like you would a corn-on-the-cob, fashioned the walking stick he now uses, but no clear description comes to how he obtained the headpiece.

I am also told that the place he inhabits, the windmill and the table, was actually owned by Time himself, as a holiday home.

So how he obtained it must be examined further.

Anyway, I must be away, I don't know when he will return, but I hope you all are a bit more filled in on his background, i know we've all asked ourselves here in Euphoria.

I'll just leave THIS for you to click on, 

THIS for you who use Discord and 

THIS if you like looking at pictures!

Anyway, must be off before Ol' Hatty comes back!

Farewell, readers!