“But you were born eighteen-oh-eight...it’s two thousand and eighteen..” Issac wasn’t sure why the demon wasn’t able to recognize his own age, but he decided to leave it be. “Never mind. It’s no fun focusing on age anyway.” He dismissed with a wave. “Let’s hit the art store first, hm? I might pass out at the blood bank, so you’ll at least have something to keep you occupied while I’m unconscious.” Issac chuckled. He didn’t like blood. It was disgusting and gross.