Dead Fortunes

[Sanoci]

Wasn't Las Vegas the supposed extinction of these abominations?

Dean presumed after the nuke that such horrors would be at worse a tragic memory to those afflicted from this heinous plague that was scripted right out of some ancient biblical bullshit for lore or the thoughts of a b-horror director. Regardless, this was not how he wished to spend his vacation time. Given an invitation from a friend to check out Fortune City, how ironic that only a few hours within the enormous resort that history was repeating itself apparently.

Looking at the reflection from the window, he saw a fairly tall, lean-built man in his twenties with short spiky dark brown hair, amber hues filled with malevolence towards his misfortune, tan skin tone, thin eyebrows, slightly concave nose, and oblong jaw shape with a scar traced down from his lower lip to the chin . Overall a specimen until it came to tackling his fashion choice. Tattoos occupied his muscular arms, snake bite piercing rested above his chin and a customized silver skull piercing on the tongue. Clothing was recognizable with a pompous stud like himself, donning a special crimson leather jacket with silver color rhinestone embedded on the back of the jacket, designer black jeans with his initials stitched in crimson, and dress shoes to match the Spec Shades Ozzy sports but in a gold tint.

The young man was certainly in deep shit at the moment, granted it was convenient compared to the other people in the middle of the calamity. Rationality was barely registering through his conceited head, having his heart beat in a frenzied pace while his nerves shot up with the blood curling lullaby of screams echoing in the hallways of the Fortune City Hotel. This luxurious suite of his was now the only sanctuary Dean had to the war zone outside.

Dean Dixon was not particularly a house-hold name in the world, but to the many sexually frustrated or simply horny denizens of the adult industry; Dean was idolized as a sex god. Renowned similarly to icons like Ron Jeremy and John Holmes, it was difficult taking not to pay attention to this Adonis of a man. A controversial figure, Dean is label as a bay boy to society and has shown volatile behavior in many disputes broadcasted to the media. Although he was a malicious son of a bitch, even this love god could not be completely callous to the situation. For now he needed to keep his cool, barricade his domain, and when things died down try to make an attempt to escape from this resort.

Never fucking gamble for it can screw you royally

[ Not the greatest post, been a while but hopefully this will suffice.]

 

[Defiant.Anjeru]

[It seems fine to me. ^_^ I decided to play an OC, I hope that's okay; I may have Rebecca in here too, though she won't be my main.]

Kitty Kat Williams, her common name Katrina, was a dancer, a special kind of dancer, that...catered to clients with particular tastes; usually high paying men of the nerdy types. Trekkies, Video Game enthusiasts; you name it, she had probably catered to that type at one time or another. Rich types, mainly. Or nerds attending some convention of another in Fortune City. She'd made a pretty good living here, in all her years as an entertainer. Red heads tended to be a sought after type these days, giving the lean, ample breasted, supple reared, long limbed woman plenty of clients.

Who knew what the fuck was going to happen here. Shit, just when she had been planning to get out of this lifestyle. Figures the world would go to shit. She'd fought her way from the Arena when the infected had broken out of the confines that blasted show, Terror is Reality, had them in. They should have known it was only a matter of time before those creatures managed to get out, but fuck if they had pretended ignorance. The hotel she assumed was her best bet, at least for a place to board up until the cavalry came stampeding in.

She pulled the slide back, loading the chamber of her .45 pistol, before letting loose the contents of her clip into the heads and torsos of the infected blocking her way to the Hotel entrance; several fell, blood oozing from piercing holes, pieces of heads missing, eyes shot out. Really, it was a disgusting sight, but what choice did she have. She grunted, slamming her boot against the chest of one of them, kicking it out of her way as she busted in through the doors, slamming them shut behind her. She gathered what she could of the furniture and barricaded the door the best she could, before making her way to the desk.

Her green eyes looked over the security monitors, before she took the intercom mike and used it to the page the hotel in its entirety. "I heard from a group of survivors holding up underneath the Mall, the Military is arriving in 72 hours. Best bet, stay put." She slammed another clip into her pistol and made her way to the stairs as she pulled the slide back to load the chamber. Higher was probably better, the fucking things couldn't fly or scale walls; that she could actually be thankful for.

 

[Sanoci]

Echoes of gunshots lingered throughout the hallway, definitely a preferred sound to the inhumane responses coming the living dead as they dissect and fed on anyone that entered their cross hairs. Too absorbed to even conceive the thought of the misery of others in this gruesome scenario, Dean would not necessarily glue himself to the window of his suite. Fearing the repercussions for revealing his presence, it would simply be intelligent to stay hidden for the meanwhile to let the majority of the chaos dissipate.

Wish I had myself a fine-ass chick to fuck right about now

Ludicrous was the perfect word to describe the thought process of this pretty boy. Despite all the shit occurring the notion to get his dick wet seem retarded when survival logically would be fueling his actions. Drawing out a switchblade the porn star kept in handy in case of physical confrontations got too violent, he eyed the blade as it sprung out, pondering if going outside the would be a good idea. Reluctant to leave his little haven for now, Dean would quietly break off a table leg that served no true purpose for his barricade. Realizing he needed a better weapon to face these monsters, he did something rather primitive but effective as he slowly fashion himself a stake or mini-spear perhaps. Surprisingly this distracted him from the gunshots, figuring if required he would kill the person to retrieve the weapon to get something with a little more kick.

 

[Defiant.Anjeru]

Kat was getting low on clips of ammunition for her .45 pistol. Well, time to start searching the rooms...she thought with a sigh as a .45 caliber round found purchase between the inhuman eyes of a stumbling infected as it lumbered down the hall toward her. There were room service carts strewn about carelessly, as if the bell boys and maids had long abandoned them in hopes of finding a way out from where these hell born creatures were feasting. Unlikely. All of Fortune city seemed to have been hit. They were everywhere. Another round found itself slamming hard into the cheekbone of another stumbling infected, the thing groaning as the bullet shot around in its head. It fell and she dropped out the empty clip, reloading her pistol with a new one, pulling the slide back to load the chamber. There didn't seem to be any others wandering this floor's hall. Finally, a small break.

She wasn't about to let herself go lax in defense though, chewing the gum she'd placed in her mouth as she came up the stairs. Idly, she popped a bubble, then found the nearest door to her. Holding the pistol by her face, she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. "If any one is inside, don't shoot, I'm not infected," she called in warning, before opening the door, not realizing that she was moving into the hotel room adjoining Dean's. Once inside, once she was sure it was empty of infected and people, she began scrounging about the drawers and other pieces of overturned furniture for any ammunition or supplies she could use.

 

[Sanoci]

Infatuated with his primitive commission towards a weapon convenient towards survival in this gambling wonderland, remnants of Kat voice were traced. A composed mindset was significant, watching from a safe location the consequences of letting emotions overwhelm one self in midst of chaos. Zombies were enveloping the majority of Fortune City with haste. The weapon was near completion now. This definitely placed a smile on the face of the selfish star as Dean eavesdropped on what Kat had to say. Closing in to the barricade, he yelled to test the waters as he swore the voice came from a woman.

" If you are not some looter follow my voice. Be forewarned, this area is currently blocked for the sake of security. Now try not to shoot the place to death, you only attract them here."

Dean never sugarcoated anything, knowing the uninhabited resort now lacked the humans that use to populate the region. Now Darwinism was going to be applied, obviously a byproduct of how he viewed people in the first place. The gun meant she had an advantage, granted without a safe room to enter she was a sitting duck. For now the porn star would wait with the improvised weapon wrapped around his taut fingers.

[ Here the post]

 

[Defiant.Anjeru]

Kat swept up any supplies she found in the room before the man's voice came to her ears; he wasn't too far away, from the sounds of it. He sounded harmless enough, but as she came to learn in Fortune City was that some of the survivors were nearly as bad as the infected shambling about for human flesh. She pocketed the rounds she found and placed a menthol cigarette between her lips, lighting it with the lighter she always carried on her person. The cool inhale of the stick's smoke helped relieve her tension. She blew out the smoke and holding the gun close to her, began to head in the direction of the harmless enough voice; remember, Kat, things aren't always what they appear - don't assume anything.

On edge, steps light and angled toward the heels of her feet in case of a quick need to turn and bolt in the other direction. The crazy survivors were always more complicated and harder to take down than the damn zombies. Though fuck it all if Zombrex wasn't hard enough to find. If they didn't kill you when they ate at you, there was a chance you'd become like them; long as you had your brain, you were a functional flesh hungry zombie.

She came to the barricade and narrowed her eyes, stalling a few feet back from it. "Hello?" Her voice cut through the air in a hushed, yet harsh whisper. "You still alive back here, bud?" The gun was held close, though not up threateningly. No need to have the man think she was a threat to him.