||; Â Â Â Â No words were spokenâno, this little chit hardly deserved the breath it would take to say anything. But if he wanted to rile him up, he would face the consequences, as everybody did. A snap of Giovanniâs fingers, and Alina moved on her own. Stealth Rock and Toxic Spikes, settled in a ring around the duo (whether the moves would function as intended or simply to prevent escape remained to be discovered).
Whoever said anything about the Nidoqueen doing his fighting for him? No, no, she was there to make sure the little fucker couldnât run away. Instead, with his gaze never leaving the otherâs face, Giovanni slowly unbuttoned his jacket. Passing it to his Pokemon, along with his hat, both articles held carefully in her claws. Instead⊠a simple switchblade was swiped out of his pocket, metal glinting in the available lighting as he flicked it open.
âTell me, boy, would you like to lose a finger? Or perhaps your tongue? Yes, I think Iâll go for that. You can still talk without your little finger, after all.â His footsteps were light, polished shoes not making a sound over the ground as he approached. It was a sort of coldness that seeped into his expression and tone, one that was far from playingâdaring the other to keep going. Daring him to keep mouthing off. Daring him to give him any more incentive than Giovanni already had to maul him.
âOr, maybe, you may cry that using a blade is cheating?â It was closed again, stowed away, though now Giovanni was rolling up his shirt sleeves as he approached. âNo matter, I can rip it from your mouth with my hands.â
This is a man that tore out a little grey creatureâs throat with his teeth alone, after all. A man with combat training of all varieties under his belt, despite his health condition. And disrespect was never taken lightlyâespecially when there was nobody around to witness any brutality he wanted to dish out.
âApologize or I will force you to grovel.â
          It wasnât a game anymore.
Oh, how absolutely pleasant. NOW it was getting EXCITING!Â
The spirits in his form -- all but save maybe two of them - were screaming at the one who had riled them up to this situation. However, the Gengar saw absolutely no loss in partaking in this little shit-show of a fight. After all, if this body was harmed, its not like THEYÂ would feel pain.
The other spirits, however, were more focused on the possibility of losing this BODYÂ as a whole. They canât survive without it, and this Gengar seemed like it was throwing it away without any care for its own personal safety.
Regardless of that, the excitement and adrenaline rush of the situation before him kept the Gengar STRICTLYÂ under the bodyâs control. His grin started to grow to what appeared to be unnatural lengths upon his face, and his eyes, previously amber, had began to turn redder like some haunted glow was beginning to surface within him. The air around him grew unnaturally colder, and the toxic spikes and Stealth Rock only added to the pleasure of feeling TRAPPED and CORNERED, with no way to escape, and now, its only method of survival was to FIGHT.
Geralt stood there, an almost maniacal giggle escaping through his sharp teeth, his claws flexing and clenching as he readies himself to be ATTACKED.
âOooooh, a KNIFE!? Now weâre getting KINKY, boss! You think that little TOY will kill me? You think I wonât just EAT IT to SPITE you? Iâll make you wish you SHAT YOUR PANTS and LEFT the first chance you got, you TRASHBAG!~ KEheEHEHEHEHE!â
Now his voice was noticeably different - it wasnât the voice of a humanâs, any more. It was haunting, unnatural. The sound of a ghost-type, a riled one, excited from the very nature of having to battle. Oooooh~!
âTHIS is gonna be FUN~!!!â
âSTAB ME! GUT ME! MAKE ME CRY UNCLE! MAKE ME BOW TO YOUR FUCKING KNEES AND MAKE ME SUFFER~!! GIVE ME EVERYTHING YOU COULD EVER DREAM OF DOING TO MAKE ME SUFFER YOU WORTHLESS PILE OF HUMAN GARBAGE~~~!!! KEHEHEHEHEE!â