If you were to question Scinfaxi upon the downfall of the dark stallion, he would only shake his head as the stallion began the descent to madness. The little mare that came charging full speed at him was annoying enough, and set him into a frenzy. A frenzy that may never heal and scar his brain with scars bigger than his own brain. For at the moment, he was sitting alone upon the beach and in the sand. Alone, striken with mad laughter.
His laughter was sickening, and at the sight of him, you would see a man gone crazy. There was madness in each of his green eyes, and the Unknown seemed to even given up the pursuit of the stallion's head. Everything was losing it's control on him, and there happened to be a piano inside the stallion's head. A note was struck that held a deep tone to it. It held, slipped through his mind and flowed about the mad thoughts. His laughter stopped for a second, the distance stood of a rock tumbling to the ocean nearby had caught his attention. He smiles, the edges of his grin curling over. What has happened to a man who seemed to have healed after the encounter of a winged mare? This is what insanity takes you to when you're nothing more than overhappy schizophrenic who lacks an antiopsychotic every morning.
One green eye is quick to move with sudden pace to the the cliffs to his right. They are off some bit, and how he heard that rock fall is still unknown to this day. The eye stares, moving in an awkward way. Scinfaxi, though a piece of the disease that he had somehow created to exist within his mind, was working words into his head after The Unknown seemed to die off on it's own. 'Shajake...... Shajake...... Wake up. Rise and shine.' As the stallion seemed to hear the words inside his mind, that it wasn't really his true self talking to him, the part of him that died when he was a youngster, he halts the eye, and seems the same. Scinfaxi, the white shape who now took on the actual idea of a white stallion with golden eyes, stood beside him before slipping into a wind that blew sand about. Oh, where is the man that was once there?
'SHAJAKE. AFRICA!!!!!!! The single word of the mare he had met got the stallion up to his hooves, the sand caked about in his mane and tail. Cold water drips from his body as foam gathers around his legs. "SHE IS DEAD, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SCUM! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" In a roar of anger, one that seems to never have died off like it usually would, he turns his head in a violent manner and lunges out at the spot where Scinfaxi was once standing. Teeth barred and closing down fast for what was there, every word that bursts from his mouth is nothing more than a dark roar that flies across the land and sea in a wave of pure terror. A surge of blood goes to his head, and he finds himself straggering on weak legs before he trips and falls to the waves.
Maybe it was her name alone that awakes him, and breaks a part of the scar off. Or maybe it was just the burning pain that comes when salt water touches a still open wound. His ear was missing, partial only, but the feeling of losing his left ear was annoying to him. The burn that came from the salt water brought him back up roaring and screaming. Pain went through his body in one burst of electricity. He did not stand afterwards, only laid about in the waves. The thought of throwing his head down into the water comes to mind, committing suicide becoming an outlet to the insanity. Yet he finds something that stops him.
For once, Scinfaxi seems to be right. Africa's scent is there on the air. He does not know where it came from, and how it came there, but it is there. He calls himself crazy, but his mind is shattered enough and he is desperate enough to see if it is there. Desperate enough to find a way of meeting someone that he knows that isn't fueling up the disease. Soon, he shall fall from the Earth if anything. Disappear to the Steppe up north, and freeze to death in the blizzard winds. No one would care, but for now, there is something to make a fool of him.
He stands fast, locks his eyes to the cliffs where he had heard the rock fall. Something moves upon them, a grey dot among black. His mental stability is low, and the sight that he see's could just be a mirage, the scent just a trick that his head is using to make him go crazier. But no, it is moving, and Africa's smell there is somehow.
Inside his brain, between the gears that move in weird patterns now, he searches for sanity. She cannot know of his current state. He had worried about her for only mere seconds once. Her scent had come along once while he was in the Steppe one way when the wind carried it. Her scent came from the Basin, and he found himself hating her almost immediately. Anything to do with the Basin, he seemed to lose interest in.
Strength is fully out in the open, and he uses it to drag himself out of the waves and onto the beach. By now the grey spot has left the distant cliffs and seems to have disappeared. It might of touched land, or fell to it's death. Another stream of mad laughter errupts from him at the thought of the creator falling to his death. He holds less than a care for any living thing in the world now. How sad.
Growl freshly inside him, he moves towards the cliffs. Pace at a slow canter, as if he wishes to trick them into believing that he has friendly intentions. How would he carry those intentions ever in his life? The thought of them alone seem unknown to him.
As he approaches closer, his sanity seems to create war to the insanity. Insanity wins, as common. Her smell is stronger now, and now he see's clearly that the grey spot was another being. Another meaningless soul that finds themselves unlucky enough to be found by this lunatic who escaped from the looney house.
His line of sight is now able to view what that spot was, and he finds himself staring before more mad laughter escapes him. In between the laughter and somehow created inside it all, is a single word alone.
Africa.
The girl is not the girl he knows. She has a companion, ah yes, a little birdy. He only laughs more at the sight of it. She is a girl in shambles, as if he has gotten around to attacking her. She misses a wing, and whoever has done it is sure to feel his insanity at it's greatest later on. Head hung low, ears down, he approaches her. There is a smile upon his face, one that says he has lost every single one of those damn fucking marbles he never received even in his mother's womb. A chuckle breaks out from inbetween tightly closed teeth before he reaches her.
His head is raised to her level, staring into those hazel eyes the winged mare has. At this point, it is clear he is not who she knew him as. Oh no little girly, sorry to tell you, I killed him. I killed him and ate every single bit of his body and soul, and I might as well start with your brains.


"talk talk talk"

OOC: He's gone full out psychopath crazy. Just sort of watch him. xD

He had been fully aware of the fact that she was trying to escape from him. She was trying to get away from him, as if his new prescence and mind weren't good enough for her. If there had been flowers about, he might of plucked one in some brink of sanity and offered it to her as a prisoner and a spy. Yet there was none, and with one ear missing, black mane and tail having lost their sleekness, body showing scars that usually where never there from a battle that occured years ago, he is never surprised the little girl does not know how he is. Should he remind her?
"Oh AfriCA HONEY, don't you..youuuuu kno... knohw whooo I am? Wanna pick flow... flowers....?They'll be per...... perfec..... perfect PRISONERS." The voice that once seemed so easily used was gone, only to be replaced by more of the monster he was falling into it. What sanity he has inside of him is all being used up for this meeting. A healer could never heal him, the magic and shear power of a God could never return him to a normal man. No Missy, this is who I am. See the real truth?
His attention is sweft enough to go the bird, how it seemings untrusting of him. It is a meaningless creature to him, yet it stays near the girl; he has no form of attack to give it. At the moment, that is. Every motion it gives towards him to met with a growl. One that belongs to something demonic. He seems to have become a demon in the time since she has left. "Shut up, Bastard. I know the girl, but does she KNOW ME? Shajake."
A gaze stays over her body, looking over the details closer now. He knows she has lost weight and a wing. There will revenge for her later on, just not at this moment. She needs to remember.
Beside the stallion, standing alone and only inside of the madman's mind, Scinfaxi stands alone. He holds no hateful words to make the man lunge out alone at him. By this time, Scinfaxi is wishing to have ways to speak to others other than Shajake. He'd use the power just to tell Africa this is not the man she knew before, but he's still in there. You just got to dig about.
Shajake is busy attempting not to kill the bird. It swoops down towards him, and in pure instinct alone, he lunges upwards with his teeth barred in attempts to attack the bird. A growl falls forth from his lips before he comes back to ground, returning empty handed. He wouldn't hurt the bird, never in front of Africa.
One chuckle falls out of him before another piano note is hit. A high note that makes him cringe before remembering the happiness she had. Her actions tell him it must be gone. The Basin seems to spoil everything it could get it's hands on. He frowns, it comes out in a frighening way. This is who he is now.
He takes a step towards her, this time going out to brush his muzzle against her shoulder. If the bird touches him, it would be in the end of the starry bird in a heartbeat. There is never a care in the world for it. Another wave of maddening laughter falls from him as he looks at the missing wing again. 'It is bad, isn't it, Sir?' The laughter doesn't seem to end, and above their heads, on the cliff, stands The Unknown. Red eyes fall from their sockets, the black body is has falls to ashes. It rains down upon him, and it must signify the death of The Unknown altogether. The being that was created by his mind has died, now Scinfaxi will see himself die off in near time as the man becomes more and more insane. For when you're insane, since when do you need friends?
The ashes topple about from the cliff and falls upon him in only in his mind. The Schizophrenia has taken such an effect to him that it is there everyday, every breathing second, inside every dream. At one point he dreamed of Africa, thinking of his actions around her. Those actions won't be here today, as for today, she is going to learn what she didn't learn at their first meeting.
They always say second time is the charm.
A large, musclar head is brought back towards her own, muzzle moving close enough to her ear to brush it, yet he doesn't go to touch her. That is not his goal at the moment. A single whisper falls from his jaw, and he lets it fall into her ears.
"Have you missed me, old friend?"
To him, she is not a friend. It is only a saying to mess with her head a bit. He might have started becoming a mad scientist at some point, but no, he is a man who belongs behind barred windows and is given medication through a straw when he sips from a strawberry flavoured drink that strangely has the hint of paste in it every morning. Inside would be twenty different medications. In the afternoons, he would wheeled out for a few moments of relaxation and fresh air. 'It's for the better of his mind. It'll allow him to relax and think he is still some place nice', they shall say when questioned by the family that never exists. They're all dead, he'll scream from the inside of his padded cell while held in his straight jacket. He'd fit in perfectly with the other psycho's.
He draws his head away from her ear, never touching her body. It cames back in front of her own head, green eyes filled to the brink with insanity and mad laughter. His teeth are closed strongly, but the frightening sounds of his mad laughter bounces off the walls of the cliff and around them. 'Where have you been all this time?' is the only thought that can pass through his head with some sanity.


"talk talk talk"

Right here, was a man who knew almost too well what power he held, and was aware of his every actions. The Unknown stood upon the cliffs above, ashes of it's body steadfast falling upon his body. Like when Africa met him wearing armour that didn't exist, the ashes took the same pace. Scinfaxi stood still, and whispered only a mutter to the dappled stallion.
'You know better, you bastard.'
The words inside of his head were enough to bring him back to life, to become a piece of himself. A disease that didn't want it's habitiant dead, but still somewhat functioning normally. "YOU PIECE OF SHIT, GET LOST." Shajake would never go to the idea of killing his only friend when it lived inside of his brain, but still, he had no working piece of mind now. His head so close to Africa's, one false move and he could easily be slamming his thick, heavy skull into her own. The strength at which he would hit it at if he did with no restraint, he would most likely hurt her in a form that later on, he'd kill himself for.
Her little bird was there to entice him to attack, but he kept his full attention to the girl. A voice lingered about inside his head, mixed in between a conversation between The Unknown and Scinfaxi used to work him like a puppet. The voice that moves through his head is female, one that comes when soothing is needed. 'Please don't hurt her....'
It goes ignored.
By this time, he would of hurt her, yet something came upon the pair. A smell that brings a surge of hatred to him already, and as his mad green eyes go about to search for it, he lacks to acknowledge the bird and it's attempts to move him away from the single winged girl. "Oh NO. Not going to work, LITTLE BIRDY." The bird never moved close enough for him ever to put a straight forward attack to it, but his head flies upwards, mouth open, teeth bared, macabre laughter bursting from him like fireworks. You cannot work like that.
His descent down to earth is brought with a new challenge. One the man has always looked forward to. The meeting of a Basin member. And how does he know that this unicorn that now lay before him and screaming at him to be a Basin member? Its only because he knows the reek of their scent with every step. The second his eyes lock onto the colt that has come between him and the frightful Africa, a crooked smile comes across his face and those eyes light up a blaze.
It was his dream come true.
"Get AWAY?!" He is already questioning the colt, fixing to play with the toy dropped right before him like a present from the Gods like a cat plays with a mouse before killing and eating it. The playing is brutish, cruel, and to Shajake alone, his favourite thing to do. "I believe it is YOU that should be GETTING AWAY as of now. Or do you want your BRAINS all OVER THE ROCKS?!"
One large head to moved to connect himself to the colt, looking over it's strange features. The madman's personal body is dappled, dark, a tombstone gray as some would describe it. What eyes he has are the brightest green, living straight on the edge of being called lime green. Yet they shall never reach that point. His breath is hot, heavy with the demonic tone it is so common to. Every word that falls from his lips are one's that belong to a monster. Right here children, is what a true murderer is.
A steady stream of laughter breaks from him before fading out. The crooked smile put upon his face is still there. Already it tells the horrors that are coming. "Little boy, this is a GROWN UP game. Grow some BALLS before you try this." With those words, his head is flung towards the unicorn colt, teeth bared and eyes wild with madness, goes for the child's left eye. He doesn't care for the kid's red eyes, only to bite into their soft, squishy, liquid-like shape and pull. Pull with all the strength in his upper body and tear it out of the socket. There is never a care in the world.
Africa is long but a mystery in his head now. He is aware she is there, behind the colt whose eye he is going for. If the girl had said something earlier on, before he went for the eye, he might of held himself back. Yet she almost lacks a voice to him now. There is an age old hatred going on here. And why? Why does he have reason to hate the members of the Aurora Basin so much?
It only takes one bad apple to ruin the whole bunch.......
Scinfaxi is quick inside the stallion's head, wanting to move towards the stallion before the worst becomes reality. The man inside the madman's head attempts to bite down upon a lock of black mane thrown about in the fury of words, laughter, and teeth, only for his bite to slip through and be lost. He cannot hold on to anything now, and aware of his defeat, fades away to dust.
There will never be any hope for the one eared man now.....



"talk talk talk"
OOC: Shajake is only going after Voodoo because he hates the Basin for reasons he'll never understand. Please excuse him.

He had missed his mark, and as the colt repeatedly backed up, ever closer to Africa(the exact thing Shajake was wanting), his insanity hit the breaking point. He wasn't about to let a little colt come in and try to be hero. There aren't hero's in the world, and the madman knew this full well because if there were hero's in the world, was his own at?
When a growl errupting deep inside his throat, rumbling and roaring like an angry Lion prepared to kill the idiot who dare stood before him staring him in the eyes, Africa's soft, weakened voice broke the silence. She asked him not to hurt the damned colt, and as much as he hopelessly cared for the one winged mare, he was caring enough to follow her words.
When his head was moved back for the colt, his green eyes moved way from the damned Basin kid that stood before him. A snarl took across his face as a bit of sanity took over with the girl's plea, her weakened state making his stomach churn after the bit of happiness he received with their first meeting in the rainstorm. "Whatever, Africa. Get lost kid. NOW!"
The moment he yelled the now at the kid, he partically roared, teeth barred and ear flattened down to his neck. A question is presented to him, and with his green eyes wide and full of monsterous thoughts that he will follow with the first Basin unicorn he can find once this one is gone, he chuckles in the face of the colt. "That's personal."
His very vision lingers upon the colt before he lunges out again, this time going for the gray and red colt's black mane, with the intentions of biting down and throwing the colt out of his way if he doesn't move fast enough. Shajake knew full well that the insanity would come back, but in ways he wasn't paying attention to his brain. Scinfaxi was beside him, standing still with no emotion. His voice was no where to be seen in the dark stallion's head.
The moment he is sure he can get the colt away for good, he does.
It's a fast action made while the colt turns his head to check on her, the green eyed stallion's main intention in knocking the kid down on his side, and then shoving his head into the sand. Sorry, Africa. I don't want to be too much of Mr. Nice Guy today. Even if you did say please. His hind legs move him towards the colt, ready to see if this is when the colt grows his balls finally and learns to fight.
Fight like a man, if Shajake had his personal preferences.
Front legs ready to do any harm they can inflict, teeth barred and mouth open, ready for a bit at the kid's neck, and one ear just flopping around on his head like a dead leaf, he is ready for he's got himself into. He's ready for that very moment when he can his perfect revenge just for the girl he somehow learned to care for in a madman's fucked up head.
Here you go girl, this one's for you.



"talk talk talk"
OOC: Omg, I'm so sorry it's so short. I just didn't know what to have him do at the moment. The next will be longer, promise.