[the sword finds its mark, and the blood runs. good. real fucking good!
Dimitri grabs him—and as the eye melts, they fall. he lets his sword go, and grabs the taller man—at the very least, he can cushion him again--
whumph.
his sword clatters in the sand next to them, and as he looks over to it, Asch catches sight of the sight around them. it's... nice. for all five seconds that it lasts, probably.]
Dimitri. [he pushes himself back up, dragging his sword back into its scabbard. it's cleanish. his voice is a strained whisper.] Are you okay?
[for once, the emotional connection is paying off: free of the illusion, Asch's waves of apologetic guilt roll over him, his worry for Flayn and Dimitri blasting with deep concern in the forefront of his mind—cautious, careful, and caring.]
no subject
Dimitri grabs him—and as the eye melts, they fall. he lets his sword go, and grabs the taller man—at the very least, he can cushion him again--
whumph.
his sword clatters in the sand next to them, and as he looks over to it, Asch catches sight of the sight around them. it's... nice. for all five seconds that it lasts, probably.]
Dimitri. [he pushes himself back up, dragging his sword back into its scabbard. it's cleanish. his voice is a strained whisper.] Are you okay?
[for once, the emotional connection is paying off: free of the illusion, Asch's waves of apologetic guilt roll over him, his worry for Flayn and Dimitri blasting with deep concern in the forefront of his mind—cautious, careful, and caring.]
Before--I'm sorry. I should have--I--