His attention back on the other grounded trainer, Steven extended a hand to help him up. "No rope, but Aggron should be enough to deter any further trouble until we arrive. Are you okay, though...?" he left the question hanging, as he realized he didn't know the young man's name.
Nate stared blankly up at the guy's hand for a moment. This was... the Steven impersonator. Definitely not Steven Stone. Definitely not
former Hoenn champion Steven Stone asking if he was doing okay. That would be absurd. Leave aside the fact that this entire day so far had been absurd, that was just one bridge too fucking far.
He would rather face all the bullshit standing than on his back, though. Nate grabbed not-Steven's hand and hauled himself to his feet, doing his best not to sway. Fuck. Ass. Shit, that fucking hurt.
"I'm okay," is what he said, after taking a second to catch his breath again, wait for his head to stop spinning. "I'm good. I'm
fine, Mightyena," because now she was pressing up against him, looking up at him with wide, imploring eyes.
"I'm good," he reiterated, nodding to Steven. "Thanks." He reached down and briefly rubbed the side of Mightyena's neck, leaning gratefully against her side.
Blue glared at the guy. Really? He'd been in the middle of whatever this was, and he was gonna mouth off at the one who's stopped that espeon from eating his face? "Don't see you making any moves. What, you satisfied with your involvement in this being giving some guy a concussion and then getting knocked on your ass, job well done?" Someone else had managed to get himself and his aggron in between the two groups now, so at least that was something. "Gyarados, hold the big guy. Why don't you go make yourself useful and find some goddamn security? Where the hell are they?"
Nate gritted his teeth against a surge of irritation that made his vision swim. Really? "Yeah, pretty much. Might have liked to do more, but taking a faint attack to the chest you start to think, maybe somebody who's been lying around on a deck chair instead of doing jack shit ought to take it from here, like maybe someone who isn't wondering if they're bleeding internally and all. Prick."
(Oh, no. Why had he said that? Why the fuck did he have to go and say that to
Blue fucking Oak, who very well couldn't be here, either, and he looked fucking young all of a sudden, but still? Goddammit.)
Mightyena made a faint, reproachful "whuff" that Nate tried to ignore. At least the asshole had given him an excuse to get the fuck out of here. "But sure, I'll go see what the hell is going on with security. You can hang out here and make your fucking
contribution and smile for the cameras when they show up and all. Whatever."
(Oh, no, he
really needed to get the fuck out of here, right the fuck now.)
Nate set off towards the bar, doing his best not to limp. He didn't want anybody else coming up to him wanting to help or nothing. The bar itself somehow looked even worse than when he'd left it, tables all tipped over and shit, glass and liquid all over the fucking place. The bartender and other patrons appeared to have fled. Well, whatever. If any of them had any clue how to summon security, they probably would have done it already.
Nate was well and truly staggering by that point, and he took a grateful moment to lean against the bar, rummaging around until he found an intact bottle of he-didn't-even-care-what.
"Come on," he rasped to Mightyena. "Let's find a fucking cabin or something." He needed some
rest and then to figure out a way out of this whole stupid festival, just as soon as he could go a whole ten steps without needing to take a break.