Cleaning Up The Rubbish [SagaSTSouta/John Doe]

There it was... He'd risk the wound or possible sound but hoped to avoid it. But those words the moment of confusion and bewilderment. Hopefully it was enough to give him that few seconds he'd need to take advantage of. Pulling his knife from his boot and turning on a swivel of his hip. Throwing the knife at close range towards the man's chest or near the gun arm in general range. Continuing his spin as he did so in a continued motion rising from his heels and charging his foe. It was still a small gap to close so he'd have to hope he could move quick enough and not be too slow.

Should he have actually closed the gap though he'd reach out with strong and lurching hands. The fresh fleshed palms of the ID man's finger prints would reach out. One trying to quickly grab at the wrist of the hand if he was able that held the gun. While using his free hand to try and smash a forearm into the man's chest unless avoided of course. Trying to make sure the gun wouldn't face him while he'd attempt to tackle the fellow down onto his back if possible. Or at least that was his intention in his attempt. His cold eyes even if they weren't really 'his' eyes narrowing in as he moved quickly. Like a beast pouncing on it's next meal.

----
-When the man speaks, He attempts to turn and Draw/Throw the knife from his boot
-Then he attempts to Charge the man, Trying to grab his gun arm if possible while slamming his other arm's forearm into the man's chest in attempt to knock him down.

His eyes looked down with eyes that seemed void of any real emotion. Looking down with all the Observance of someone looking over a object, or a meal. While he had the man under him he'd attempt to grab at the man's armed wrist to try and dissarm him. But rather then going towards the gun he'd attempt with with as much strength as he could muster. Try and squeeze his hand around the wrist with enough strength to crush concrete. Trying to shatter the bones if possible in the hand to hopefully cause the hand to become limp. The gun was his main worry and obstacle as far as he saw it.

"He served his purpose... His fate though is his own fault. But his part in this game is over now." He'd say in the struggle. His voice soft but with a edge of irritation within it. Struggling to try and fight his foe and hold them steady and still as one could in the such a situation.

"It's no true lose though, He wasn't my goal nor my target. He'll be little more then frozen stock by the end of this. My personal touch and work is left for those I choose." He'd say coldly with  haggard and hungry breath. "I am Dantalion, A demon of many faces that shares his art, and knowledge with those chosen in intimate elegance." Snarling almost as he finished his words. One of his eyes lightly twitching as he felt anger, as well as some sadness swell within him. The sensation of humanity making him feel for what he was thinking of doing, While the rage and hunger within him only spurred him on. A bit of cool sweat building upon his brow. The sensation and taste of blood still on his tongue and what was before him giving almost sensual sensations wriggling through his body.

He didn't really feel much from the insults, More so only a familiar bit of humor tickling at his memory as he sometimes heard such things from victims where things had been done more intimate and personally. Some of them were true special experiences and even forms of art and emotion that could only be experienced in the ways he could give them and use them for. Making people into literal art, experience, and at times sustenance to continue the personal relationship even after their souls and shuffled off. So many reacted with such insults like this, or fear, begging, A plethora of reactions that made moments like these more of a comparison then actually taking any offense to them.

He only tightened his grip harder if possible trying to squeeze as hard as he could muster upon the man's arm. Even as the man's head rushed up at him he did little to try and avoid it. The smack being lightly jarring but his body was strong from all the times it had been regrown and remolded. The squish of flesh doing little to phase him beyond blurring his vision lightly for a few short moments. "Such anger, It's really to be expected I suppose. You weren't really chosen or cultivated like the others. You stumbled into all this as more of a obstacle then anything else. It really is a shame... I can't do as well with such materials." He'd say in light irritation as a little blood dripped down the face that wasn't truly his. His free hand attempting to moments after lunge for the man's throat to try and choke and throttle him lightly. While his other arm trying to keep the grasp on the wrist would attempt to break it if possible squeezing and twisting his own wrist to cause torque and twist.

----
-Has head smashed into and bleeds lightly
-Talks a bit and attempts to Choke the man with one hand while trying to break the wrist in his other grasp.

He felt a bit of irritation building within himself the longer things took. It wasn't a interaction or dealing he honestly wanted to deal with nor was it as planned or special as his normal excursions truly were. This was a action of necessity and need not passion or intrigue. How could he put his heart truly in something so inorganic and unnatural at least in his way of thinking and seeing it.

But one hand could only do so much even empowered as it was trying to tighten around the wind pipe of the subdued PI beneath him. The guttural failed twisted sound this man was compared to the composed works of art John could conduct. But like so many people of the past in their trades... He'd do the best with what he had to work with.

He snarled trying to choke harder the more this one attempted to make sounds or try and resist. Resistance only met with more force in each passing moments of struggle. Straddling before long the man bellow him trying to use his own weight and might to fight against the kicking legs. Disregard for his own wounds allowing weak punches to strike home. Small bruises wouldn't matter when his body was special and would even shed the weaker shell in the later hours.

His body felt the lightly weak attacks coming his way but it only seemed to stir his rage and anger further. Like feint whispers inside his skull telling him to remove the thorn from his side. Like disposing of something useless that had become a flaw in his grand plan and turn it into something actually useful. His other hand that wasn't chocking his foe only continuing to twist as if using it to make more and more pain the coming moments. Trying to twist and contort flesh and bone to show what true numbing and awakening pain was as the games had honestly only began. "Shhhhhhhhhhhhh" Was all that was said this time only ended by a small chortle and giggle. The dark grin only appearing darker in apperance when complimented by the dark ringed eyes that narrowed down on the man bellow him.

The small jabs weren't weak, But they didn't have much special behind them as of yet. The personal experience wasn't as great as one he intended for. But then again this whole interaction, This entire venture was something of force and need not creativity or desire. That very fact made it like forcing a emotion or action that one didn't truly feel in their heart and soul. He felt the anger within him only grow at this gross miss use of his talents and forcing him out into using his skills like this. Making it more like some sort of art... more like work. Or some of something one could force so easily. It was a affront to his work.

His mind wondering briefly as he felt a blow take him off guard as he pondered to off into space as if someone angered in unpassionate work at their desk or something like a day job they felt no love for. His hand loosening from the throat briefly as he wavered in grasp. His eyes briefly squinting in momentary pain and and anger as he would briefly lose grasp. "You little pest... You are ruining what all of this is mean to be..." He'd say almost snarling under his breath as he allowed the hand prior on the man's throat to slip to the side of his face rubbing where he'd been hit.

He felt the fist collide with his face as he lost himself in observation and his mind wondering. The blow causing his body to briefly relax Causing him to fall to the side lightly but only for a moment or two. He wasn't a weak being... He'd after a few very brief moments of weakness regain his balance and send a harsh and strong backhand rearing back as he tried to re balance himself towards the man's jaw and face. He had to at least keep him angry and in the altercation. Keep em angry so they didn't think to clearly. If he could keep any of his victims scared, entranced, or in a state of anger they often didn't take the more simple opportunities to alert others or escape in a smart manner. If he was able to keep his opponent enraptured in the emotions that suited the moment best he could keep them making mistakes and hopefully avoid them calling for help of any kind.

Although the striking fist did anger him as well. Even after he attempted to back hand his opponent should it have hit or missed. He'd then have both his knuckles tighten hard into fists as he would try and continue to straddle the man. Both fists quickly tightening so hard the flesh on his knuckles briefly whitened and the sounds of several pops could be heard. Rearing his arms back unless the man avoided the blows or found a way to wriggle free. He would begin trying to throw a continuous set of right and left blows at the fellow below him. Aiming each blow and attempt towards the man's temple's and jaw. Of course as he attempted this he could now longer hold down the man's arms. Hoping he injured the man's gun arm though he'd continue all the same. Curious how much fight this one had left in him. This one definitely had more of a beast inside though then the other weaker piece of meat he'd already secured that lay not far from both of them. It was always interesting to see just how people reacted so close to the release of death. He felt a lump grow in his throat as his heart skipped a beat or two as he felt some mild interest grow in this one too. Perhaps he could find some amusement from this irritation after all. The thought bringing a mild smile to his lips as he would continue to try and strike viciously at his foe.

The trading of blow's caused his body to begin to grow lightly sore in several areas. He was tough and could take a beating but light bruising and aches still set in all the same. His body in some places fresh from the mild changes he'd allow to take place. Some areas that had been allowed to change highly sensitive in their freshly born status. But each time he seemed to take it in as if it was some sort of painful game. The heft of his actions not seeming to weight upon him much at all. Truly if at all. His breathing was calm but with a heft to it that seemed to hint that enjoyed his actions. It was as if he found some mild sparks of joy within the irritation of having to handle this undesired task.

"I find it amusing-" A blow briefly causing him to cough and find only a brief pause within his words. "You made things a little fun after all... It's a shame... If I knew more about you I might have actually tried to make a game of our chase." He'd say holding both fists suddenly high above his head grasping both fists in one another in a double handed solid singular object of sorts above his head. "I think I'll eat your heart first..." He'd say trying to smash his fists the bottom of both fists that were clasped together hard downward towards the man's head in a attempt to try and bludgeon him. Seeming to allow several blows to come his way along the way. But putting all his focus in hitting as hard as he could he'd lift it a second time as well in a follow up attempt of similar style. "Maybe I'll fry up your eyes as well... Detectives are supposed to have great eyes for spotting clues right?" He'd say laughing as he sent a second smash attempt shortly after laughing slightly as the bored average demeanor he once had seemed to have fully faded. As if a mask had been pulled revealing a more sinister being that had been under said mask all along.