R E L E A S E. [autoplay]

Just the mere contact sends goosebumps in her spine, which is ironic considering what she is. She is genuinely pleased that he acknowledges her, as an equal, as another entity. It’s enough to get her heart racing – at least, if she had one literally anyway. “Oh, you can just call me Shetani.” She giggles slightly, twirling a strand of hair in her long nailed finger. She licks her lips, lost in thought for a few moments – should she be honest? Or should she beat around the bush? “I really like you.” She says simply, before grinning and cocking her head to the side.

❝ Then you may call me Azrael. ❞

          The personification certainly is something. It’s as if she has a crush on him. No-- he’s certain she has a crush on him. It leads him to tilt his head to the side a bit, his face remaining neutral, though he is curious.

 ❝ But why avoid the inevitable? I mean.. I wouldn’t. If, given the choice, I’d       rather stay dead than come back again. ❞

           Fear had brought Death plenty of souls in her lifetime. He had yet to meet her and as he stood watching, he wondered why it took so long. Her excitement brought a small smile to his face, head nodding in acknowledgment. She was an interesting one, scaring people to death and the likes.

 ❝ Always a pleasure meeting an emotion, Fear. ❞

          Death shook her hand briefly before drawing his hands to fold behind his back.

   Whether it be good or bad, rousing a reaction never failed to entertain the necrophiliac. Human behavior had never exactly intrigued her, per se, but perhaps pushing situations one or another for the fun of it was inherited from her mother’s theatrical background.

 ❝ Everyone has their ways of grieving. Who are you to judge how one       should grieve and how one should not? ❞

           Death sits at an empty table where there is almost no one around. Quiet, in the corner. Put away. Just how he likes to be. Eyes search hers for some kind of reaction himself, though all he saw was curiosity. This could either end good or it could end bad.

   Being who she was, and considering all that had preceded this moment, the gaiety in her gait could only be attributed to her morbid fascination with death. The sight, the smell; it brought her pleasure only comparable (in her mind) to how people felt when vacationing in a tropical place.

            He couldn’t help but snort. At least she was being honest. It was more than most people like her that he’d met over the years. A faint smile crossed his lips as he answered her.