[He had cultivated a reputation for taking down multiple targets by himself. They would fling himself at him, one at a time, driven by desperation, and he would shear past their armor, crush his enemies in the order they offered themselves up to him. In many cases, driven by anger, it had been easy in those not-so-far-off days. And while not bolstered by rage today, his skill remains, and his confidence in a fight is relatively unshakeable.
Unless squaring off against Byleth, apparently.
She reads him so… easily. Knows of his weaknesses that he overcompensates for — the blindness in his right eye, therefore shifting defensive anytime she goes for that side — and takes advantage of them without hesitation. It is like nothing has changed between them; like for a moment, he is still seventeen and eagerly learning, while she teaches him with the confidence of someone far more apt.
And defeats him just as soundly, too.]
Hngh-!
[That’s the only noise that escapes him as his back crashes into the ground, sword slipping from his hands. Any attempt to sit up is quelled by her boot pressed against his chest, and Dimitri looks up at her, surprised.
She stands there, sweat glistening on her features, face framed by seafoam hair, smiling down at him. He is dumbfounded (moonstruck) by the way the sun casts itself against her; it reminds him of when she cleaved through space itself, touched by the goddess, landing before them with such a power at her back.
Dimitri was momentarily speechless then, and there’s something inscrutable about this sight that renders him useless now. So, eloquently—]
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finalflight2019-11-15 01:54 am
1/2
Unless squaring off against Byleth, apparently.
She reads him so… easily. Knows of his weaknesses that he overcompensates for — the blindness in his right eye, therefore shifting defensive anytime she goes for that side — and takes advantage of them without hesitation. It is like nothing has changed between them; like for a moment, he is still seventeen and eagerly learning, while she teaches him with the confidence of someone far more apt.
And defeats him just as soundly, too.]
Hngh-!
[That’s the only noise that escapes him as his back crashes into the ground, sword slipping from his hands. Any attempt to sit up is quelled by her boot pressed against his chest, and Dimitri looks up at her, surprised.
She stands there, sweat glistening on her features, face framed by seafoam hair, smiling down at him. He is dumbfounded (moonstruck) by the way the sun casts itself against her; it reminds him of when she cleaved through space itself, touched by the goddess, landing before them with such a power at her back.
Dimitri was momentarily speechless then, and there’s something inscrutable about this sight that renders him useless now. So, eloquently—]
You… ah…