"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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"It might just be me," Markus spoke past a mouthful of food, "But don't you feel like that should've gone down... worse?"
Karliah looked up at him from her desk, twiddling the pen in her fingers as she shrugged, "Maybe... regardless, I'm glad it didn't." She muttered, looking back down at her notes. The two sat in her chambers, conversing over the speech she'd given in regard to her plans to better the kingdom. She'd assumed the crowd would ignite in uproar the very moment she brought up using her abilities, seeing as they were the very thing that'd led to their quote unquote distrust towards her.
But instead, the people were unmoved, clapping in unison afterwards as if they were instructed by a telegraph to do so. It was odd to say the least, how so many of them were said to have 'objected' her and her choices, and yet, they seemed to all be in unanimous agreement. Truthfully, she had no energy to even begin to question it, instead, she reveled in the fact that there were little to no complaints. Perhaps they'd come to their senses, finally understanding that there were practically no other options left in regard to options to protect the kingdom.
Markus hummed as he paced about the room, plate in hand, before stopping at Karliah's side. He peered over her shoulder, his eyes running over the inconceivable amount of notes before he took note of the ring on her hand. He stopped mid-chew, a frown growing on his face as he took a hold of the girl's hand, receiving a chuckle as he bent and twisted her fingers, looking over the ring.
"Jesus, what, are you two married now?" He asked as she pulled her hand from his grip, leaning back in her chair to look up at him.
"No. I stole it from him."
He hummed, leaning against the desk, "Or, maybe, he wanted you to have it,"
She offered him a quizzical stare before leaning back down to scrawl down more notes. He shrugged in response, "Men work in mysterious ways, my dear,"
"Yeah I know," she practically sighed.
Markus stared at her for a moment before sitting up, "Well, on another note - Day of the Dead is rapidly approaching, and I think this just might help appease the parents and children of those we've lost," he paused, "Including you."
She looked up once again, pen still pressed to paper as she met his gaze.
"The Guédé tribe and I are planning on decorating the tombs tonight, I want you to be there. Not only to help bless those that we've lost... but to get the time to personally mourn your grandfather."
She didn't respond, now avoiding his eyes. Truthfully, Karliah hadn't even taken into account the fact that she didn't grieve for him, instead, she was vaulted into having to act out the prophecy. Anything in relation to her grandfather was in turn pushed to the back of her mind, her thoughts a cluttered mass of not only worrying about what was best for her people, but worrying about the blue-eyed storm Papa Legba had referred to, also known as Michael Langdon.
