The form is swept over, the liquid taking over the mass and coating it in a silver sheen that glows in the moonlight. Tonight, it is cold though Tallsun is overwhelming Birdsong. One of those things that come only when the Earth is taking part in a transition that leaves all inhabitiants dazed and confused, waking from a coma to see things in the sunlight. When the light faded away to the first night that came, he accepted it once more, so intune with the idea of enternal darkness. His mind has come to be built around it, and now, he almost runs upon the pale lights. He can't escape the night, as the night cannot escape him. They coexist in a tango that is rained upon in rose petals, black in colour and smelling of the sickening odor of decay.
Somehow, he is in love. Not with the woman that would soon enough birth his child, but with night and all that follows within it's wake.
A rounded muzzle slips beneath the murk, taking swings at the idea of living for a mere moment so that he can drown himself. There is a thin layer across the surface, breaking from his neck. It tries to slip down where it shall unite with the bones that scrape over a dappled coat, but there is a barrier between it and it's goal. Thoughts that are not his own filter through the transparency, working about to create a mind for the man. His green eyes aren't moving, but he is breathing, the blood is following and leaking from his wound. A doctor would be lovely, but it wouldn't happen. If one was to try to heal him, he'd find the way to kill himself in their work.
'What are you trying to do? Do you not care anymore?' "DIE. JUST DIE, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SCUM." He sighs within his mind, the only noise that comes partial to their made-up conversation and questions. The Unknown stands in a stray ray of milk, breaking through the bare fingers of Cypress trees that dot this area. It's body is made of shadows, merging to make a form that is complete with a pair of glowing red eyes. When it smiles to him, there is glints and shimmers within it's lips. Blood slides from the gums, riding atop his black lips and dripping to the silver coat that resides here. Water flees with fear, ripples across its skin that play goosebumps upon it's layer.
For once, there is something not yelled through his machinery; it weaves through his ribcage, their shape taking form beneath his protection. He has lost weight in the night, taking away what he had gained. Had anything ever been gained while everything else feel apart? There is no memory of his mouth touching dead grasses to feed, the only memory he does carry is of them. "Are you ready to die?"
If its real and the disease's final form means it, then he didn't understand. Those eyes were moving, staring upon a star that burnt away, fading in the darkness. Where is everyone? Scinfaxi see's it as Shajake's first sane thought, but it goes as just a faint memory of when he was a child and could think straight at times. Back then, Scinfaxi stayed all the time, playing the part of a black coat's imaginary friend. The colt's older brother would stand there and watch, staring as his younger sibling spoke outloud to something that wasn't there.
Over time, he got smart, learned it wasn't real and that only he could see the white figure, and spoke to each through thoughts. That was how Scinfaxi always did it, he just caught on and learned after some time.
'There is no answer to that question, Shajake. Luneia and the foal, they are where they please. Your father, mother, brother, and Esfaere, they're dead.' "Don't you remember? You killed them?" Killed them? 'Sadly, yes.' Mother? 'Probably dead.' He falls silent within his skull there, fading backwards into a place he discovered a long time ago that the disease wasn't able to reach into. There, Esfaere is still there smiling, cheerful laugh in his head while her purple eyes light up in amusement. He likes to think she is still there, but can't find the will to bring her to life with Scinfaxi and The Unknown.
While he resides in that place, he falls limp, head finding a pile of bones to rest upon. They reach over him with dead fingers, asking for him to join them.
Call him crazy, but he goes with them, joining their abyss of death.

OOC: Okay, so first off, this isn't a death thread. Shajake is just sort of lying around in the waters on top of the bones, being the usual creature he is.

Takes part in the current SWP, not to be mistaken for the Endless night plot.

"talk talk talk"