Shift might not understand why, they've seen Moonbeam do this trick a thousand times over and know full well it usually works, but it's still almost always effective. But why? Why was it effective? Was it something inherent to mortals? Was it something not fully possible for them to ever understand?
They can't help the sharp, static filled laughter that bursts out of them as they're smashed into the floor, the pain more delightful to them than it should be, but they can't help it. They want to feel everything, they want to know everything, they are a computer as much as they are a god and they need to know everything.
It hurts. They're bleeding some kind of neon green liquid. It hurts but it's feeling and feeling is so incredible and they could live in this forever, laughing while he yells, unable to comprehend why it's so funny but knowing that it is funny.
"you thi-think you can do an-anything to me th-that matters?" They chirp, "when you d-don't even m-matter anymore?"
And maybe that's the crux of it. Maybe that's what's so funny. Mortals are so sure they know everything, so sure they understand how it all works. They never do, not really. Every attempt is so pathetic it wraps back around into comedy.
Wires wrap around them and they're thrown through the window, the bell necklace they wear ringing wildly, the skin of Vox's brother shredding and more of that neon liquid pours down, down, down their face, down their back. It takes them a moment to realize what's going on. To understand what the threat being posed is. They look down. Down. And down.
Fear is not a novel concept to them. Not entirely. It spikes sharply through them, and while they've felt it before, they can't quite identify why they feel it now. They're not afraid of the splat, dying hurts but only for a second. They'll come back in the end anyway. They're not scared of the yelling that's being thrown their way.
They tilt their head slightly. It must be the fall itself that scared them? Now that was something. One hand wraps around one of the wires. It isn't clinging exactly, but it's close to it as the face of Vox's brother melts away and is replaced with the initial face that greeted Vox only a few minutes prior.
"you're funny." They say, more deadpan than they have been. They don't want to fall. It's so stupid but they realize that they are scared of the fall. A soft, pitch-shifted laugh that rebounds awkwardly and sharply and painfully loudly. "wh-why are you sooo mm-mad!"
