"for the beauty of the rose, we also water the thorns."
Descendant of Loa lineage, Karliah Shango stems from masters of Haitian and the old Oyo Empire Vodou. After the nuclear wipe out, she finds herself thrown into leadership with little comprehe...
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Michael stared at the screen of his computer, the only thing illuminating his room past the faint, somber flicker of a few scattered candles. He sighed deeply, twisting his rings around his fingers in thought.
He was more than aware of the plans everyone in the outpost had - from those plotting against him to those plotting against others for a chance at freedom. It was nothing more than a cynical joke, how quickly gears began to turn and how even more quickly people resorted to killing one another in selfish hastes when it came down to life or death. It seemed to be that was all it had to take - the end of the world to bring out the worst in humanity.
The man leaned back in his chair, groaning slightly at the sore feeling in his back. The events from several nights ago seemed to have never left his mind, nor did the power harboring girl he found himself growing more and more infatuated with.
His mind wandered back to the first time catching sight of her. The feeling of being in the presence of her power was inexplicable, something he'd never felt before - not even in relation to Cordelia Foxx, let alone any magic-sensitive being he'd come across.
It'd lingered on his mind long after, leading him to call upon none other than his father himself. In the midst of his ritual, blood pooling around him as he pondered the idea of another being having been more powerful than himself, Karliah's voice echoed within his ears, and within a blink of an eye, she was in front of him.
The night still left him baffled and without an answer, the fact that the two had appeared in the presence of one another was simply unfathomable.
Seeing just what the young queen was capable of when in control of her powers also seemed to have left nothing to the imagination to understand just what she'd be able to do if fully trained.
A deep breath passed through Michael's nose. Resting his elbows upon his table, he reflected upon his thoughts.
Suddenly, the sound of a gasp met his ears. He swivelled around in his chair slowly, brows perched as he found none other than Karliah, panting as she looked around the unrecognizable room in astonishment.
"Speak of the devil and he shall appear." Michael muttered, his expression growing amused as the girl turned around immediately, a shaky breath passing her lips as he raised a brow at her.
She shook her head frantically, "No - no, no, this can't be real," she breathed out.
Michael tilted his head, standing slowly before making his way around the bed and over to her. "I believe the last time we saw one another you threw me against a wall."
Her jaw clenched as he approached her, hands clasped behind his back as he stared down at her. "Not to mention the several loas seconds away from ending my life," he hummed, "or at least attempting to."
"What do you want?" Karliah growled.
He raised a brow, her sudden resilience causing a smirk to spread across his face. He leaned towards her, his blonde locks slipping past his shoulders, "I want nothing from you, Karliah," he spoke indifferently, pulling away as he began to tread around her. "In fact you've just appeared before me. Shouldn't I be asking you?" he mused.
His blue eyes traced over her body, glinting with something dark as she shook her head, her curls brushing against her shoulders. "I don't want anything to do with you."
He held a hand over his chest in mock offense, "Darling, you could at least try a little more conviction in your voice next time."
Karliah snarled, turning to face him. She held out a hand, closing off the man's airways with a simple twitch of her finger tips. Michael stammered in his step, brows creasing as a hand reached for his neck.
He attempted to break her grip, but to no avail as her power practically suffocated his own, far too superior to be touched or broken.
"Why are you here? I won't ask again." she hissed. Michael fell to his knees, mouth agape as his face ran red.
Finally, she released her grip, the man gasping in air with a strangled cough. He looked up at her, peering at the woman through his disheveled locks. He staggered as he stood up, attempting to send Karliah flying back into a wall, only for her to catch herself within seconds, her boots sliding against the floor with a harsh squeak.
He glared daggers at the young girl, marching over to her, "I don't believe I made myself clear enough," he growled, pulling her up by the arm, "I didn't beckon you, I didn't ask for you. And as far as I'm concerned I don't want shit to do with you." he spat.
She roughly pulled herself from his grip, scowling back up at him. "Likewise." she muttered with a raise of a brow.
He stared at her for a moment longer, closing his eyes as he sighed through his nose. "How did you even get in here?" he asked in exasperation, opening his eyes to meet hers once again.
She shrugged slightly, a motion too nonchalant for his liking. He stared at her with an expectant look, causing her to shift on her feet, stuffing her tongue in her cheek as she pondered upon an answer.
"I don't know. I was talking to my granpapa, and then I closed my eyes, and I woke up here."
Michael frowned, shaking his head slightly, "You'd only be able to reach me through transmutation - even then you'd have to know where I was," he noted.
"Yeah, I gathered."
His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, question after question brewing in his head. His domineering attitude returned as he edged closer to her, "You said your grandfather died."
She looked up at him, nodding in response.
A scoff of a chuckle passed his lips, "You mean to tell me you performed descensum, then while in the afterlife, made your way to me?"
Karliah's gaze fell to the ground as she shook her head in thought, "I'm not physically here right now. I remember - ... I remember passing out after the night you came to me. I haven't woken up yet."
A look of fascination crossed Michael's features. "What are you?" he whispered in disbelief. "Never has there been a witch to walk among us with your capabilities, neither a voodoo priestess for that matter."
The echoing words from Kweku and Papa Legba lingered in her mind as she peered up into Michael's eyes. She shrugged with a slight raise of her brows in response.
A signature sly smile met Michael's lips, "No - I recall telling you all my little secrets," he spoke lowly, his face barely inches from hers.
His blue eyes lingered on the bloody handprint stained upon her cheek. He raised a hand, fitting his palm against the mark. He grew closer to her, his nose bumping against her own as his breath ran across her lips.
