Jacob rolled over in his bed, somebody had obviously decided to gatecrash, and piss Jason off in the process. Evidently, that was not a good idea. He rolled over in his bed, checking briefly that his weapons were still beside the bed, the feel of cold steel beneath his fingers almost as arousing (though thankfully not in a sexual way) as the feel of a hot body between the sheets, especially during a zombie apocalypse.<br/><br/>He'd stolen the sword from a suit of armour posing with great solemnity in the college hall, and with a bit of a polish and sharpen it seemed to be functioning nicely. The thought brought a smile to his face, and slowly, he drifted back off to sleep.