[How the hell did Lyn, of all people, manage to be cornered by shuffling undead? He's fast, he's paranoid, he's seen enough movies to know all the goddamn tropes, how did this fucking happen. The answer, as it happens, is deceptively simple; there are zombies fucking everywhere, he didn't have the nerves to stay put in one place, and he's run out of energy to just teleport away from the encroaching hordes by now...which means he's also out of energy for, say, transforming into his demonic form, where he'd at least have wings and some natural weapons, and is only barely able to manage a few fireballs. Which, as it turns out, aren't helping, because zombies don't care if they're on fire. This would have been incredibly useful information a few minutes ago.
At least he had the sense not to leave his house completely unarmed...although he was restricted by what little Mayfield has seen fit to provide its residents with, so the best he has right now is a gore-smeared metal bat.
Crowley's arrival couldn't be more timely, because Lyn has never in his life been so glad to see another demon. However, the inane question is answered in the form of a frustrated scream.]
A
At least he had the sense not to leave his house completely unarmed...although he was restricted by what little Mayfield has seen fit to provide its residents with, so the best he has right now is a gore-smeared metal bat.
Crowley's arrival couldn't be more timely, because Lyn has never in his life been so glad to see another demon. However, the inane question is answered in the form of a frustrated scream.]
What the fuck does it look like?!