drown it out, [open]

in retrospect, he's glad he didn't choose that particular moment to pick his glass of beer back up. he'd sure been thinking about it amidst some movement to his left -- but he muted the rustling along with the rest of the bar noise until there was a motion, a bump on his stool, and a frantic tugging at his shirt. his instincts take over and his arm catches the falling form easily round the middle, preventing her fall but pulling the both of them into a momentary, very awkward sort of proximity. just another check mark on his social record.

"careful." is all isaac offers, as short on words as always as he helps right her with his outstretched arm. now that he has a proper view, he notices she's a pretty girl, but looks something of tipsy and paranoid as hell. the latter is, at least, something he can relate to.

but she was obviously in a hurry. he eyes her, gauges her ability to think clearly, then decides it doesn't matter much to him anyway. "get your bearings before you go running off." his gruff voice cuts through the bar's warm atmosphere, coming off as more of an order than a friendly suggestion. if she tries to run off and end up face-first on the floor because he hadn't said anything, he'll only end up feeling guilty about it.

yeah, she's gone, all right -- he knows all too well that at this point, he might as well be talking to the bottle itself. the girl tunes his words right out in favor of more alcohol, and although he wants to call her ridiculous for it, he refuses to be such a damned hypocrite. obviously there's something on her mind, and he knows exactly how that feels.

so, he says nothing as she sits back down at the bar.

isaac is staring, though, watching her closely for another slip, trying to discern what had her so flighty a moment before. it's when the bartender eyes him that he realizes his stare is probably a bit more intimidating than he'd realized. so he goes for a swig of his beer instead as she rambles on.

but even he can't keep quiet forever. setting the glass back down on the wooden countertop, he grunts, "what'd you do?"

the story doesn't make much sense, but he follows it anyway, finishing his glass of beer while she goes on about... proposals, and headbutts. probably the festival atmosphere getting to people, he generally likes to keep to himself when things get too uppity because of stories like that.

he can't for the life of him figure out why the rangers would be that mad about hitting someone, sand he'd ask if he thought she was done talking. but she's not, true to his assumption, but he barely notices his drink refill with what she says. pumpkin's probably a pokemon, but that doesn't mean it's any better than if it weren't -- explains a lot about how she's in hot water and trying to drink her weight on liquor.

instead of blurting his surprise, though, isaac does what he does best: keeps a straight face and doesn't really show much emotion about it. at least the girl's too drunk to have been put off my him yet. "i think you've drank enough." he reasons, but it doesn't look like the bartender was planning on offering up more to her anyway. he gets drinking the problem away, but, well, that's him. and she's her, and she deserves a little better than the hangover she'll have in the morning.

"oughta sleep it off," he advises gruffly, taking out last drink before getting to his feet. "where're you staying?" it occurs to the brunette that he doesn't even know her name. then again, it probably doesn't matter -- situation's the same, either way. her offers his hand to her, a gesture of support since she's not likely to walk well on her own. might as well make sure she gets to wherever she needs to be safely.

he doesn't mind waiting for her to use the restroom, rather, he finds himself a bit concerned as to whether or not she can successfully make it there and back in one piece. but he won't stop her for fear of the consequences, and he's not about to barge in there after her -- so he waits by the door for her to return. and when she finally does, he checks her over to make sure she hadn't fallen in at any point before they make their exit. at least she's being cooperative.

isaac doesn't hardly trust whatever instincts she's talking about, but at least this is his turf. even if she has no idea where she is, he does. the woman is hanging on his arm for balance but he lets her lead the way out into the crowded streets and keeps a close eye on their surroundings as she points. part out of habit, but part of out her sake as well; if she caused as much of a fuss earlier as she claims to, he'd prefer not to have her found in a state like this.

not that they're really... moving anyway, her notices. she can't seem to keep her feet straight to really walk anywhere. it leaves a precious few options for travel, unfortunately, and before he can really think through the implications or how it might look to the passers-by, he just does what he feels he needs to do--

one sweeping motion later and the blonde is entirely off her feet and in isaac's arms. bridal-style, though he tries not to think too hard about that bit. it's the most straightforward method to get her home safely and soundly. "you won't be walking far like that," is his gruff explanation as he begins to move through the crowd. one of the few perks of his size is that the crowds tend to part for him.

as he starts to walk in the direction she'd indicated, the brunette tries to think of any hotels or hostels in the direction. the pokemon center is the most likely suspect, and if nothing else a nurse might not be a bad idea for someone as far gone as her. it's a good enough answer for him. "y'staying at the pokemon center?" a pause, because it hits him that he's carrying some girl around in his arms and he still doesn't know her name. "'ey, what do i call you?"

the girl -- lena, as she introduces herself -- is definitely gone. doesn't mind being picked up and carried around by some burly stranger, even makes a good time out of it. well, it makes it a lot easier to get her back to where she's sleeping, he reasons. and at least she didn't make some scene of it out on the streets. folks were already afraid enough of him as it was.

"isaac." the birth name still sounds foreign on his tongue, the first syllable almost always muddled with the roll of a nonecistant r sound. not that he expects her to notice, much less even remember any of it once the alcohol wears off.

it seemed the pokemon center was the right place, gauging by her affirmation and lack of any subsequent resistance as he carried her in that direction. when he walks through the doors he deliberately keeps his eyes forward and his footsteps purposeful. he's not good with words and he doesn't need one of the nurses trying to blockade him with suspicious questions. he doubts lena would be of much help, either. but nobody stops him as he obliges and carries her all the way inside, and thinks where might be best to set her back down on her own two feet--

or not. the clumsy grasp on his shirt keeps him holding her steady, because he has no idea how tight her grip might be. don't go, as opposed to keeping guard all night? he couldn't possibly assume that she meant anything more personal than that. "y'need to sleep." it's meant as advice, but comes across as more of an order than intended. "an' so do i."