[ it's surreal when it happens. dimitri knows how to swing a blade to disarm, not maim—but he doesn't know how these words seem to interact with each other, and how a simple slash in concurrence with byleth's own spell can dig into her arm all at once and hack it straight off. he's barely aware of the arrows that stab into him, his mind gone blank.
it's only for a second, one that stretches out for what seems like ages. then, he runs over to her in an instant to try and help stopper the blood. he doesn't seem to hear her, or rupert's spell, or caleb's attacks. doesn't hear much of anything, even the din of the crowd. ] Professor—!
[ rupert and caleb can deal with the buttons. he's going to try and help her, though his attention still shoots up to sound of laughter above them. and something—it just snaps; he searches for the words and spits them out like a curse, anguished, furious.
no subject
it's only for a second, one that stretches out for what seems like ages. then, he runs over to her in an instant to try and help stopper the blood. he doesn't seem to hear her, or rupert's spell, or caleb's attacks. doesn't hear much of anything, even the din of the crowd. ] Professor—!
[ rupert and caleb can deal with the buttons. he's going to try and help her, though his attention still shoots up to sound of laughter above them. and something—it just snaps; he searches for the words and spits them out like a curse, anguished, furious.
last verse, same idea as the first: ]
Ramuda—drop dead.
Off with his head!