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Isiah groaned, taking a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling, before turning his head to Tsurai, an earnest look on his face. "Look, kid. I'm tired of you thinking you stand a chance against me. You don't. One of these days, when you rush at me like that, I can, and will, break you and half. I don't deserve to be treated that way, kid. I'm not going to let you abuse me anymore."

He shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes remaining steady and cold on Tsurai.

"So stop trying. You have nothing to prove."

He snorted. "s**t.. I dunno. It's either back where I slept last night or in Alex's place..." He thought hard. He didn't remember bringing it with him. "I bet it's hidden back where I slept. C'mon. I don't think anybody would be digging for it."

He headed back toward where he had slept, people sparsely scattered here and there, holding quiet curt conversations. Eyes followed him- the tattoos made him.. an object of interest. He groaned inwardly. He hated feeling like one man freak show.. there had to be something better to look at..

He grunted. He would accept the apology after his nuts stopped hurting so bad. He still walked a little slowly, but long legs made him seem to move at a much more normal pace. He found the spot where he had spent the night, and sure enough, the dufflebag had remained unbothered underneath a pile of rubble. He uncovered it. "I know you do, but I don't know where you wanna go."

He sighed inwardly. It was one of subtle relief. "I'm glad you managed to pull your head out of your a**. Just being in your teens doesn't make you the smartest person in the world." He grunted a little, remembering his own awkward teen years. "Doesn't make you invincible, either."

He plopped down beside the duffle bag, unzipping it, digging through it to find a can of soup. "You should eat."

Isiah turned the can in an effort to read the old, faded, warped label, squinting a little before handing it over to Tsurai for deciphering. "Shitn'Piss soup." He dug through the duffle for the can opener, finding it and yanking it out from beneath other cans. "We got snot in there too if you're interested."

He gave Tsurai a strange look before deciding not to mention it. Some southern hick kid, he thought. Never had an education. Although Isiah had never gotten through his last year of highschool past prom.. He could still read.. No point in rubbing it in.

He shrugged. "Guess we'll find out." He took the can opener and crunched through the lid, prying the metal off, sniffing it once or twice. He winced a little. "Well.. bottoms up, right?" He knocked half the can back in one go, neck pulsing with quick swallows before coming back down. "Bleh.." He handed what was left- a little less than half- back to Tsurai. "I think my original guess was about right."

He rolled his eyes. "That s**t was pasteurized before it even hit the can. That 'cook before eating' bullshit is just so it won't taste so damn bad." He scraped his tongue along his upper teeth, making another face. "You know what I could go for? A beer. Like. Ten beers."

He tossed the empty can over the crumbling enclosure wall, grunting.

He rolled his eyes. "Trust me kid, it's an Irish thing. The drink's melife's blood boyo." He recalled the accent tenatively. His father had been the last to have kept it in his family. "And I didn't always smoke this much. Before I was a babysitter it wasn't really that much of a necessity."