[color=f26522]CELESTE BROWN[/color] - Sandy Coves Inn

Celeste watched a female-looking figure walk down the main road, eye her up, but keep going.  Celeste waved, but the figure didn't seem to notice.  She shrugged, gathered her empty soda bottle, and stretched.  

[i]Maybe I should walk around, a bit?  See who I can meet?[/i]  Celeste turned to face the doors to what would become her inn, and she frowned.  [i]Forget that. I should make sure the place is in decent shape before I go find folks to stay in it.[/i]  She made her way back into the inn, pausing briefly at the large standing sign and thinking it would make sense to find a way to cross out, or cover up, "convalescent home."  She'd ask the robot.

Celeste entered the small lobby and went up the immediate staircase to the upper floor.  She could hardly believe the changes the robot had managed to make in the short amount of time.  At least four of the rooms had already been dusted down, the linens changed, and where possible, the windows opened up to allow fresh air to enter.  She could hear the robot singing some song she'd never heard before, while he worked in another room.

He was working so well, she thought she'd just leave him to his task and instead, tackle the kitchen and dining hall.  Celeste went back down to the main floor and entered the kitchen.  She flicked a light switch and was pleasantly surprised that the ancient fluorescents above her head illuminated themselves to life.  Then, she took a look into the kitchen, and groaned.  The entire place looked as though it hadn't been cleaned properly once [i]before[/i] the bombs, and centuries of dirt and dust had attached themselves to a layer of grease and grime that would need to be scraped off.  She couldn't even imagine what it could look like if it were clean.

Celeste decided to start small.  She looked around and located a trash bin, and started tossing in all the broken dish pieces, empty packaging, and other pieces of trash left strewn on the counter tops.  Then, she found an old mop bucket and a third of a carton of ABRAXO industrial grade, and a crusty old dishrag in the cupboard beneath the sink.  Celeste tried the faucet, but nothing came out.  She tried to think if she saw a water pump anywhere nearby, when she remembered the ocean was just outside her door.  She took the bucket, filled it with water from the sea, then dumped in the ABRAXO.  The water fizzed slightly and let off a powerful floral, but medicinal, scent.  Celeste clumsily plunked the bucket onto the counter, slopping water onto the surface.  She rolled up her sleeves and got to work.