All We Wanna Do Is Eat Your Brains [Greed]

[honoringblood]

Ash had slipped through the banquet hall on the heels of Grif and Caleb’s group. He knew better than to eat the food, but he’d pilfered knives, spoons, and shrimp forks before leaving - it’s always good to have more sharp, pointy objects available in case of attack, by something native or by someone who’d been dragged here like him. Either way, he

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[so_not_harker]

Sam had gotten bitten a couple of times already. The gold on the ground had looked too good to pass up and the damned things had bitten him! The windows held little to no interest for him. He and Dean were poor, but he wasn't going to steal out of windows. Money on the ground was one thing, but he had some pride. (Which was probably going to goeth before his fall later, but that was how it went.)

The buckshot, however, caught his attention. Reaching for his gun, Sam made his way toward the sounds of the shot, coming around a corner and just staring for a moment. Then he took aim at the head of one, squeezing off a quick, clean shot. "Damn it, I really hate zombies."

[honoringblood]

Ash's dad had always explained the order to take things: weapons of any kind, useful items carrying devices for your weapons, shiny things. Mostly because weapons and useful items can get you money... to buy more weapons. He's just happy he hasn't run into one of those rust monsters, as he's very fond of the sword he's been carrying.

Ash jumps at the sound of another gun and twists to look back for a moment before turning and firing again. He makes a quick guess that the man is alive. "You're tellin' me! These things're fast too." What he'd give for a Faerunian priest. "Thanks, by the way."

[so_not_harker]

Sam sort of feels the same way, only wishing he had some holy water. Or rock salt rounds. Or...well, any of a lot of things.

More ammo would be a great place to start.

"You're welcome." He took aim at another one, taking the shot clean through its head. "Damn it. Where's the holy water when you need it?"

[honoringblood]

Heck, Ash would just love it if he could cast spells without having to cut open his palm. This is the last time he leaves the apartment without spell components.

"Nice shot," he comments. "Didn't see a church on my way through, unfortunately." One of the dogs breaks off from the pack and heads for him. Ash doesn't feel at all guilty about kicking it back and shooting its ex-master. Fur coats are pretentious anyway.

He'd mention where he picked up the gun and ammo, but it's behind the zombies, so that information wouldn't make much difference. "What kind of sick necromancer would raise dead rich people anyway?"