Feferi's shoulders felt the strain as she locked her arms around his stupidly thick neck. Beneath the deceptive softness of her arms, strong muscle clamped down on the ridiculous pillar of his throat. With him down on one knee she just barely had a height advantage for the first time in this battle and she used it to pull him farther backward, robbing him of leverage.
His sweat-slicked hair was in her face, but she gritted her teeth (behind clamped shut lips) and ignored the pungent wetness of it. She grunted with the strain of locking her shorter arms around his throat, her brief hesitation over not wanting to take this too far and cause him serious damage cast aside as she felt the near-metallic solidness of him beneath the cloaking flesh.
Maybe Terminators didn't need to breathe but his creators seemed to have built in similar weaknesses, much to her relief. His prying hands felt like butterfly kisses after the hard slaps she had been enduring up until now.
Feferi blew air out through her nose as she tensed her arms further, crushing down on his throat with muscles built up over years of swimming against ocean currents for hours every day. She took another step back, forcing his back into a tense arch as she too went down on one knee to bring more of her upper body to bear on robbing him of his wind. His movements grew more sluggish and at last he went limp against her.
Cautiously she loosened her grip, and when he didn't immediately stir she carefully lowered his (very heavy) body to the ground. She took a moment to straighten out the leg he had been kneeling on, then frowned down at his limp form impatiently.
His chest rose and fell but he was out. For now.
Unwilling to leave him passed out on the ground, Feferi considered, then retrieved her discarded overshirt and used it to wipe his sweat off of her with a grimace. She snagged a bottle of water from her backpack but still he lay there like a lump.
Fef sighed and sat on his chest impatiently, straddling him with her knees under his sprawled out arms as she leaned forward. "HEY!!" she shouted in his face, then decided to extract a bit of petty vengeance for how much her arms were still stinging. She began to slap his cheeks, not anywhere near as hard as he had hit her, but enough that her palms grew warmer from the impact, stinging a bit, and leaving some color in his cheeks. "HEY WAKE UP," she shouted in his face again, then grumpily dumped the rest of her water bottle on him. "STOP PLAYING DEAD!!!"
Feferi: Brickhouse sleeper hold
His sweat-slicked hair was in her face, but she gritted her teeth (behind clamped shut lips) and ignored the pungent wetness of it. She grunted with the strain of locking her shorter arms around his throat, her brief hesitation over not wanting to take this too far and cause him serious damage cast aside as she felt the near-metallic solidness of him beneath the cloaking flesh.
Maybe Terminators didn't need to breathe but his creators seemed to have built in similar weaknesses, much to her relief. His prying hands felt like butterfly kisses after the hard slaps she had been enduring up until now.
Feferi blew air out through her nose as she tensed her arms further, crushing down on his throat with muscles built up over years of swimming against ocean currents for hours every day. She took another step back, forcing his back into a tense arch as she too went down on one knee to bring more of her upper body to bear on robbing him of his wind. His movements grew more sluggish and at last he went limp against her.
Cautiously she loosened her grip, and when he didn't immediately stir she carefully lowered his (very heavy) body to the ground. She took a moment to straighten out the leg he had been kneeling on, then frowned down at his limp form impatiently.
His chest rose and fell but he was out. For now.
Unwilling to leave him passed out on the ground, Feferi considered, then retrieved her discarded overshirt and used it to wipe his sweat off of her with a grimace. She snagged a bottle of water from her backpack but still he lay there like a lump.
Fef sighed and sat on his chest impatiently, straddling him with her knees under his sprawled out arms as she leaned forward. "HEY!!" she shouted in his face, then decided to extract a bit of petty vengeance for how much her arms were still stinging. She began to slap his cheeks, not anywhere near as hard as he had hit her, but enough that her palms grew warmer from the impact, stinging a bit, and leaving some color in his cheeks. "HEY WAKE UP," she shouted in his face again, then grumpily dumped the rest of her water bottle on him. "STOP PLAYING DEAD!!!"