#zelimir and oak seem more insane

[zorkaya-moved]

" you want my soul, huh? " the man laughs, his laughter empty and grotesque, "first, you should make sure i have one, whisperer of the dead! how can i, a whole fraud of an empty person, even have such a thing? i'm a soulless tool before all else. " ( chief zelimir also for unhingelino oak )

@sortilegii

Empty laughter of a jester in the face of Death is only met with a soft yet similarly cold smile ever-present on her gorgeous face. The porcelain skin and her cold touch make others shiver in their place when she reaches out to touch them, embraced by the Abyss and the Mania, Oak Casket watches and listens as she always does. Chief of the MBCC is a life full of brightness, color, and maniacal existence. A bomb waiting to explode on everyone who prides themselves to be brave to stand so close without any worry for their own well-being. His gaze looks forward and he almost seems insane in his speech to her, but the Listener accepts him as he is, not caring about the loud words and proclamations of soullessness. All have souls, all will face Death, all will someday return to her and will never escape the grasps of Death. Well, no one but those she chooses to truly save. The chirping bird, the tool, the never-ending color of life.

And as he laughs and looks at her with determination and monsters in his eyes, suppressed by the human flesh, Oak Casket chuckles lowly as she cups his face with her gloved hand. His heat from life and flame of rebellion will satiate her curiosity and her interests for a while, a being who is known among the dead and the corrupted. He is just like them, searching for a place to belong in this vast world of the living. However, the Listener does not care for the world of the living as much as she is intrigued by what everyone speaks about after their Death. Corpses, ashes, blood and destruction are what feeding her ability and her Mania, all are her fascinations and this young man, too, will be one of the whispers she'd love to hear in her ear.

After all, she is a Maniac. A maniac who is obsessed with Death, in love with the afterlife and the music of those whispers that are brought through screams, broken bones, and crackling of the flames. Someone, Chief will hear her sing and it'll be a song of Wild and Horrors, of Death and Lullabies, of Life and Disgust. For if Death did not recruit her among the bodies in the Mass Grave, she'd be the songstress of the end instead of lulling the dead to sleep in the cemetery.

"You've passed my trial, you've shown me the soul so stubborn and so adamant that I'll wait for it until the last dying breath you take," she still holds his face in her hands, her lips curl into a more chilling smile. There is obsession in her eyes, this man who screams so loudly to Heavens that he'll bring Hell up is fascinating to her and she wants to hear his secrets when he crosses the line and becomes hers, and only hers. She will be the final witness to his existence, a Sinner who will truly have everyone in the grasp of her own hand. Everything after Death will belong to her: his life, his death, and his last words. Everything. "Your soul is unimportant as a concept, I want your life, your death, and your story. You've signed the contract and you already belong to me. Past the day when Death embraces you, you'll always be mine."

Then, Oak Casket lets go of Zelimir and steps back, holding back another surge of obsessive interest. The Mania surges within and she wants to laugh out loud just like he did but the laughter would've been cold and coldly embracing, impossible to run away and forcing even the strongest of the voices to hide in fear for the Abyssal Whispers will kneel before her just to be heard, so they won't anger the only one who can hear them. But the Romanesque Hall Manager does not laugh; instead, she smiles once again and keeps her hands locked on her stomach, eyes gleaming with sparks of Mania before settling down.

"It does not matter if you have a soul or not in your eyes, I will take everything from you. Your monstrosity, your egoism, your insanity, and your last dying breath. No matter what you become in the end," she lifts her right hand and plays with her cross that hangs over the pretty silver chain before another chuckle leaves her akin to a mysterious mist. "I will welcome you and wait for you."