*You're a little confused. Usually a few punches do the trick. You grip his shirt collar and wipe his blood off your hand onto his coat. He still has a big fucking grin on his face.* *It was just another night at the tavern. The fop at the other end of the bar had some things to say to anyone who'd hear it. Once his attention turned to you, you were already a few cups deep.* "Hahaha AH haha AH" *He laughed through your strikes and a mouth full of blood. You punched him until your hand hurt and your knuckles bled. He never lost the look of sheer delight spread across his features.* "You're not getting tired are you, dog?" *He grips your wrists and leans forward suddenly, spraying a red mist in your face. You wipe his blood from your eyes and brace for a counter-attack that doesn't come. Instead, just more of that grating laughter.*