Dias had fallen into a defensive stance almost as soon as he'd regained his bearings after Claude's attack - not simply because it was his only option, but because he'd fully expected Claude to press the advantage. It hadn't been so long ago (for him, at least) that the best Claude had to offer could scarcely faze Dias, much less earn him the slightest edge.
His astonishment was complete when the expected attack never came, the clear opening unexploited. It wasn't courtesy in allowing Dias to collect himself; there was no courtesy between them. It was an unspoken understanding between them (or so Dias had thought) that when facing each other, neither of them would hold anything back. Initially, this had led to Dias obliterating Claude in the Tournament of Arms...and, for his own part, Dias had known he would. Claude had shown promise, but he hadn't come nearly far enough, and Dias had known it - but he'd gone all out nonetheless. Anything less would have been an insult, and Claude could hardly have advanced properly without an accurate measure of how far he still had to go.
But now, fighting evenly with Dias(as the swordsman had always believed the boy would be able to, one day), actually having drawn blood and thrown Dias on the defensive...Claude was hesitating. He was holding back, even knowing it could potentially cost Guy to do so. And, doing as well as he was now, Claude had no reason to fear for his own safety, not yet, even if he'd been the type to consider himself for his friends.
Was Claude actually afraid for him?
The idea that Claude might be holding back out of concern, that he might think Dias actually couldn't hold up to anything he could dish out - and, in the back of his mind, the treacherous and damnably logical possibility that judging by their performances so far, he could be right - was infuriating, banishing all traces of pain in a fresh wave of adrenaline. "Stop holding back!" he snarled, closing the distance between them in seconds and launching himself upwards slightly, letting his sword lead the way down in a series of perpendicular slashes. "Cross Wave!"
Unlike his opponent, Dias did have full confidence that Claude could weather his strongest techniques. Though, even as he launched the attack, the realization hit him that, while they might not be at the point of killing each other yet - and neither of them were likely anxious to reach such a point - no alternatives had arisen to the fight's coming to an inevitable conclusion, one way or the other. And, if it did, either he would have to kill Claude, or Claude would have to kill him.
If it did come to that, and indeed there seemed to be nothing they could do to prevent its coming to that...what would he do? What could he do? Whatever choice he made, he would either have to live with it or die by it.
[OOC: If we were going to have Claude get hit again, Jansen, this is an excellent opportunity? :D ]
Re: Coliseum Floor - South
His astonishment was complete when the expected attack never came, the clear opening unexploited. It wasn't courtesy in allowing Dias to collect himself; there was no courtesy between them. It was an unspoken understanding between them (or so Dias had thought) that when facing each other, neither of them would hold anything back. Initially, this had led to Dias obliterating Claude in the Tournament of Arms...and, for his own part, Dias had known he would. Claude had shown promise, but he hadn't come nearly far enough, and Dias had known it - but he'd gone all out nonetheless. Anything less would have been an insult, and Claude could hardly have advanced properly without an accurate measure of how far he still had to go.
But now, fighting evenly with Dias(as the swordsman had always believed the boy would be able to, one day), actually having drawn blood and thrown Dias on the defensive...Claude was hesitating. He was holding back, even knowing it could potentially cost Guy to do so. And, doing as well as he was now, Claude had no reason to fear for his own safety, not yet, even if he'd been the type to consider himself for his friends.
Was Claude actually afraid for him?
The idea that Claude might be holding back out of concern, that he might think Dias actually couldn't hold up to anything he could dish out - and, in the back of his mind, the treacherous and damnably logical possibility that judging by their performances so far, he could be right - was infuriating, banishing all traces of pain in a fresh wave of adrenaline. "Stop holding back!" he snarled, closing the distance between them in seconds and launching himself upwards slightly, letting his sword lead the way down in a series of perpendicular slashes. "Cross Wave!"
Unlike his opponent, Dias did have full confidence that Claude could weather his strongest techniques. Though, even as he launched the attack, the realization hit him that, while they might not be at the point of killing each other yet - and neither of them were likely anxious to reach such a point - no alternatives had arisen to the fight's coming to an inevitable conclusion, one way or the other. And, if it did, either he would have to kill Claude, or Claude would have to kill him.
If it did come to that, and indeed there seemed to be nothing they could do to prevent its coming to that...what would he do? What could he do? Whatever choice he made, he would either have to live with it or die by it.
[OOC: If we were going to have Claude get hit again, Jansen, this is an excellent opportunity? :D ]