[ He's not unconscious, but he's getting there. It's the price of his power, whether he's aware of having used it or not. But Aoba fights for wakefulness as he feels himself being lifted off the ground. There is no comfort in those sharp words, but there is security in the Prince's embrace. It's not comforting, (it's embarrassing, shameful that he should have to be carried) but he knows no fate similar to Parker's would befall him lying here in these arms. His eyes nearly roll back before there's a quick jerk of movement and a scream, and another decisive statement from Prince. ]
Fight...?
[ It's mumbled as they brush past others, (he can feel it, though numbly, as his hair catches on sleeves). They're leaving, ascending up from the underground ring to the back alleys again, a trail of uttered curses following as they pass. Outside the light is dim, but bright enough for Aoba's migraine to make him squint his eyes, stiffly blocking it best he can with the back of one hand. ]
The docks-
[ How much time had passed? How far where they from them? Would they make it in time? All of these questions groggily swim to the forefront of Aoba's worries, but the one that escapes his tired lips is- ]
no subject
Fight...?
[ It's mumbled as they brush past others, (he can feel it, though numbly, as his hair catches on sleeves). They're leaving, ascending up from the underground ring to the back alleys again, a trail of uttered curses following as they pass. Outside the light is dim, but bright enough for Aoba's migraine to make him squint his eyes, stiffly blocking it best he can with the back of one hand. ]
The docks-
[ How much time had passed? How far where they from them? Would they make it in time? All of these questions groggily swim to the forefront of Aoba's worries, but the one that escapes his tired lips is- ]
Is... is Parker's body...?
[ -one he can't bring himself to finish. ]