[ Have you ever seen someone bat someone's head like a baseball? That is what he does with the avatar's head and it's launched at Dokja? Or it's launched like a homerun, bent to land on someone and knock them out without warning. It doesn't give him enough time to disarm her. The sword is so close to snagging him, so he resorts to grabbing it with his gloved hand and guiding it away. It cuts through, biting his palm past leathered fabric. His blood line's her edge, but it isn't his organs?
As Dokja figures that out, he looks down at her. If she were his height, he would have bashed her head with hers. Being short at this moment as a boon because all he manages is to grab her by the (flesh) collar. His trademark that she herself gave to him, all because one reader wanted this in a man. The gloved hand clutched onto her neck tightens, narrowing her windpipe.
It doesn't take much strength to lift her, does it? She weighs like grapes? ]
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As Dokja figures that out, he looks down at her. If she were his height, he would have bashed her head with hers. Being short at this moment as a boon because all he manages is to grab her by the (flesh) collar. His trademark that she herself gave to him, all because one reader wanted this in a man. The gloved hand clutched onto her neck tightens, narrowing her windpipe.
It doesn't take much strength to lift her, does it? She weighs like grapes? ]