Hello, fresh useless threat. His eyes cloud, staring with curiousity that breaks inbetween madness. It crawls apart the glass walls, wanting out of it's shell enough that it'd kill just to reach the goals. Clearly, insanity is an impatient bitch that is wanting her way right now. He gives it to her without much complaint, cradling the sounds of a black heart trying to beat. THUMP. thump. THUMP. Finally, silence. Everything falls silent within him, preparing for that weak threat to be taken down to action. What's this idiot's name? Scinfaxi asks him a question, but he can't hear it. Right now, he wants to know if he is alive or dead. About time that he got that whole plan figured out, because waiting isn't that much fun.
The response is more laughter, black stocked legs standing knee deep in water that burns at the joints. Madness overtakes reality, he continues his free fall while smiling manically. So much fun that for once he is enjoying himself. Sick.
"H... H.... Hit... Me." Pain isn't something he wants to fear right now, coming as something he is craving with bloodlust. There's a heartbeat within the large stallion standing there, drooling all over the place like he'd been shot in the ass with a tranq. dart. Even Scinfaxi laughs at the sight of that. It's sad, like Shajake, Everyone has got to get around to laugh about it before their heart gets ripped from their chest and eaten with a side of bloody liver.
What he has to be fear into the stallion is more of something he would do to anything. Unicorns existed at the bottom of the food chain for him, his hatred fuelled by a friendship he doesn't even knows even exists anymore. That body and soul is dead, decaying with the maggots inside it's skull, chewing away the matter that doesn't move anymore. He wants to ask them how it tastes, if it's enjoyable to eat the body of another. With this one, he could try that out.
He steps forward, head high and body made of broken parts, trying to be a new toy when in reality he's an antique that no one wants anymore. Teeth within his mouth are stained red after recently shoving his face into a dead animal (and then throwing at his child's mother, offering her a gift), flashed with a grin let's them be bared fully. He wants to let this draft know he's more than willing to add more blood those pearly whites.
Their bodies come close enough to touch when he gets to his point of stopping. Whatever this idiot's name is, he's got his head lowered enough that Shajake would more than be willing to raise a single hoof to slam into it. That thought alone crosses his mind repeatly, The Unknown asking him to do it as filters about it. Occasionally, the clawing madness see's the thought and acts it, bloodlust and the want of death overtaking to the point that anything that moves is easy prey. He doesn't wince, he doesn't frown, he remains void of emotion only because he wants to enjoy this sick fancy of his.
His head falls to meet that of this residental screw up, eyes wild and showing exactly what is going on within his head about this time. "Wanna die?" No one would ever know it, but it's The Unknown speaking it, asking the very question that seems so worth-wild at this point. He wants to kill, to loathe in a bloody corpse. It's a drug, the same sort of drug that this brute is using with his plant.
It'll get you to that exact place you want to be, and right now, all he wants to do is get there in a rush.
"talk talk talk"