"All my life." Mecro mumbled underneath his breathe a rush of cool air escaping his lips as his eyelids opened dropping small bits of ice with a amused. "And don't call me Ugly."
His attentions was easily distracted as the hunger took control. His nose smelt the faint scent of blood in the air to be exact female,and quite a distance. His neck contorted bits of ice falling from his skin as his ears perked catching a fourth creature about. A tiny squeak was heard from a pile of rubbish beside him, Mecro lifted his fingertips as black-thread soaked in what appeared to be runny tar-like ink rocketed from them. There was a loud screech of horror as the thread warped itself around the hidden mouse, and in a instance it was ripped from it's hiding place brought to the palm of Mecro's hand. His fingers squeezed the mouse unmorsefully to the point of it's eyes almost popping out of its head.
There was a flash of over-lapping teeth as Mecro's mouth consumed the tiny creatures head, and snapped its entire head. Afterwards, he procceed to do something most foul he squeezed the rodents body causing the blood to rocket into his mouth guzzling the fluids down like a refreshing beverage on a hot day. He chucked what was left of the limp furry creature back into the trash for the rest of it's kin to finish the job. The thread in his fingertips retracted back into his now bloodied hands as he leaned foiward, his eyes finally taking in what was infront of him. There was a long dramatic pause, not exactly puzzlement, surpise or anything of that sort. Maybe, a moment of recollection, then Mecro laughed in contempt, then asked, "Loki? Nah, not norish enough. Have the same sense of twisted humor, though. Poking at a dead-man, that's got some irony to it. Pardon, my recent interlude of introductions I was quite parched from my recent nap."
He stood up from the alley-way as he grasped his scare-crow hat, patting it against the wall to shake off of some of the ice, catching his reflection in a clear piece. " Oh dear me my face is running..." Mero was being quite his normal self a charade what be nearly impossible to pull of at this point, and besides he never had clown if it came down to that. So, Mecro did something he never really did, before he told the truth.
His nose twitched again like a cat smelling out a piece of fish, he kind of moved a bit, then he stopped himself looked at the jester again. "My name is Mecro Deadwell, and I'm going to be quite honest. I'm alive, but I'm dead, not exactly undead dead, and see I'm intelligent," he stopped for a moment placing his hand to his chin. "I guess that is a bit confusing, but here's the thing. I'm a wicked sociopath, I manipulate people, killed people, eat them, and make them my minions without any sense of guilt what so ever. It's actually what's the word I'm looking for? ENTERTAINING! I'm not a monster per-se I'm just doing what nature intended. Might makes right after all. Yet, I've come to a recent conclusion I the wicked, or rather the collective wicked We. Are out-numbered, and minions don't make good company always complaining we don't get enough "brains", or whatever."
Mecro just realized he just spent a good amount of time, talking to somebody he might just devour, like that poor mouse. He did like to hear himself talk, and he did like to play with his food, and he did want to see this guys reaction, before he did anything. Most people would of just heard what he said, followed up with the rat, and took off screaming into the night. So, Mecro just sort of leaned up against the wall and stared at the clown in observing thought as he asked curiously, "So, this is the part where either you become a running meal, try to kill me, throw holy-water on me, or very unlikely stay. If you stay, then I might offer you something you couldn't obtain before."
"A-little off topic here, but I smell female blood around here. Just a tiny bit of it like a whiff if you will?