Welcome to Gaia! ::

Lyn goes to the froont desk
"I have reservations, under the name hidden, oh and may I have a nice cup of tea before i go look around town? thank you"

*Malia_Maria opens the door and strolls on in* "Wow, this place is Nice biggrin " *she says as she looks around the Inn* *She notices a young lady standing behind the counter* "Excuse me miss, but do you perhaps know about the murder that's all over the news? I've come to investigate and do a report 3nodding I'm a news detective in training 4laugh " *says the giddy Malia_Maria*

having compleated what i could do. i decided to go to sleep. but the question remains why did the zombies infect this world any way, how murdered that girl with the anglic halo, and why is the tea shop not destroyed and the incident being wiped from realiety. all these questions remained and i know i was not going to get answers.

The Inn was a hustle and bustle of town rumors and drunk activity. On a corner by an old jukebox, men on their drinking days made themselves cozy with mugfuls of ale and beer. The lobby chairs, however, were occupied by weary travelers: some harbored big bags of merchandise along with them, some had an arsenal of weapons on their bags alone.

What boggled Artemis's mind was the expressions of excruciating pain and fear that they had on while conversing with the others on the table. Plopping herself down on a wooden table with four similar chairs, Artemis nonchalantly tilted a head, yawned, and listened in on the brewing conversation.

"Ilsa... yes, Ilsa. Foun' dead a nigh' ago..." Said a gruff voice.

"Why the infestation, though?" Said a female, seriousness laced in each letter she uttered.

"Prolly 'cause of the murder." Said the voice who spoke of the name, Ilsa.

"Ow! What happens when you get... bit?" Said a new voice, a man, wincing and groaning and cursing profanities under his breath as he tried to make a decent sentence.

"Some say that if you don't treat it soon, you'd turn into one of them." The female said, pitiful now.

"No, no. If yer die with a bite, that's when you turn into a zombie!" Zombie... where had she heard that before?

Artemis dashed off to a wooden bar and got herself a cold glass of water. Instead of drinking the ice-cold liquid, she splashed it on her face; curious figures looked at the bar with brows furrowed. She poured another cup from the pitcher and drunk heartily.

Clearly these people are insane. . . .

Artemis heaved a sigh, ran a hand through her pistol on the front jean's pocket, and went out the front doors.

Jilly cautiously entered the inn, her mind whirling. If she still had a heart, it would have been pounding at that moment. This place seemed to be drenched in the ominous aura that she had felt back at the train station. She gritted her pointed teeth...she could sense that danger was not far off.

She noticed a young girl in a pink dress standing near the entrance, and thought that she was probably a hostess of some sort. Glancing at her, she stopped and wondered if she should ask her any questions. Deciding to do just that, the vampress walked carefully up to the young woman.

"Excuse me, miss. I was wondering if this inn was maybe...haunted or something."

Macyle looks up from a stack of papers she was sorting behind the front desk. "Oh this place? Haunted? I don't think so . . . well, there are some stories about weird stuff happening in the cellar but I hardly go down there. It's probably nothing serious."

Artemis grumpily plops herself down an orange couch, looking up at the counter to see the young lady: Macayle, socializing with a few patrons.

Seats took up most of the Inn's lobby, and every now and then, a man would eye Artemis's almost gone shirt like it was intentional. Artemis felt unnerved- first zombies tear up her nice warm shirt to an exposing rag, second: she's still suffering a headache from last time's fall down the well. Third: from this day forth she despised Vodka and rivers. And fourth: Artemis knew that it was still a long journey before she could head back home.

Artemis approached Macayle, just as she pointed out a couple onto a room and gave them the keys. Artemis wrinkled her nose and approached the young lady.

"Hello Macayle," Artemis said casually, "I'd like to get a room, and..." Artemis motioned to her shoulder wound and giggled, "some treatment for these wounds."

Macayle beamed at Artemis and took a key from underneath the counter.

"Zombie attack?" Macayle inquired, Artemis couldn't help but laugh while nodding.

"Take room 15, and I'd be sure to send a First Aid Kit to your room a little later on."

Artemis took the key and gladly hurried up to her room.

"Thanks a million, Macayle," Artemis went into her room; collapsing on the bed and drifting off to dreamland.