Coven of Deceit
There's something about New Orleans that's kept her within the confounds of this mystically protected estate. A certain something that's prevented her from slaying youths that might one day become her opposition. And although a witch bitch might assume her connection to Angela Lee might consider her the next supreme's right hand woman, they'd be sorely mistaken.
"I'm here now so you're going to have to deal with it." In truth, since their previous debacle with the now deceased Andres Knightfall and his sorely bland paramour, Mercy Sheridan, the wicked western witch had grown bored with the slow pace of her partner's plans.
"I can't just leave. It'll make a mess of what of I've got planned. So, don't judge me," muttered the physical embodiment of metaphysical energy, whom recently signed a blood oath to a demon by the name of Shinigami, therefore corrupting the coven she now wandered within. However, instead of simply departing the violet eyed wench stayed and played with these pretty, little dolls. Her true intention not yet known.
"I'm not judging you girl, I'm telling you. You're union with this coven spits in my face." He scowled, clutching her forearm as she intended to swat away his astral projection, visibly irritated by her lack of reverence for his many blessings. In return the witch instinctively flinched, remembering her place in the presence of imminent death, so much so she immediately calmed down.
"I've know what I'm doing." Miss Michelle crossed her arms, sighing as the devil's favorite demon stroked her long, vanilla blond hair. "Not crossing your t's are we? Well let me spell it out. I intend on becoming the next supreme." Clarice Michelle cockily blew smoke through her power source, her confidence immediately escalating as the thought of having the title of supreme coursed through her mind. "With a twist, of course."