The Lovely Inn of Madame Caroline (IC PAGE)(See Sign-Up)

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Basacura

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Welcome to the Lovely Inn of Madame Caroline!​


Greetings, guests,

I'm sure that for many of you this is your first time visiting the Lovely Inn of Madame Caroline. As the manager of this establishment I feel only the utmost obligation to inform you of where it is that you will be staying. There is a rich history here on the isles of Caroline and it is important for you to know every bit of it as to ensure that your stay is, to be as frank as possible, casualty free!

Now, I'm certain that you are all aware of the curse of Madame Caroline, herself. Why else would you want to visit a haunted inn, after all? For those unaware (you poor, poor bastards), the Madame died in the late-1700s at the hands of a creature only known as the Witch of the Isles. Rumor has it that the only way to satiate the Witch's thirst for blood by killing the visitors of the isles. Some call such a rumor hogwash. Those were typically the ones that died first.

Mind you, we haven't had a death here at the inn since 1892 and we're almost certain young lads and ladies like yourselves are in questionably safe hands. With that said, I'd love to welcome you all to this lovely little inn.
​
Yours truly,
The Manager​

The Game Itself
As visitors of the inn, you are all tasked with on main goal: stay alive. While the task at hand might sound simple enough, your job is made more and more difficult as time progresses through the game.
Each visitor is assigned a role and a task to help ensure the survival of everyone at the inn. These people are simply referred to as Visitors. One person, before the game begins, is assigned the role of the Witch. It is the Witch's goal to kill everyone that visits the inn. As the game progresses, the Witch will elect one Visitor to die at random. The dead Visitor now becomes a Hauntling. There are two ways of completing the game.​
  1. The game is won if the Witch kills all Visitors.​
  2. The game is won if the Witch is killed.​

The Roles of the Visitors
During character creation, there are roles that can be personally assigned to each Visitor. These abilities allow for certain advantages against the Witch or Hauntlings during confrontations or events. They include:
  • Clairvoyance: The Visitor receives messages from the Higher Entity warning of events to come. There is one warning given before a Visitor dies.
  • Repulsion: The Visitor can use Holy energy to remove a curse from one person. This can only be used after a character death or during a Hauntling attack.
  • Necromancer: The Visitor makes a pact with the Otherworld in order to revive one Visitor. There is only one revival to use and it cannot be the first Hauntling of the game.
  • Persuationist: The Visitor can convince/control one player at any given point in the game to do as they say. This includes using their abilities as they please. The use of abilities inadvertently through Persuationist counts as a use of the skill, and all rules that applied to the skill must be adhered to (e.g. the Necromancer can only use their skill once, even under the influence of a Persuationist).
  • Unborn: The Visitor is automatically revived upon dying. This skill can only be used once.
  • Protector: Following the death of a Visitor, the Protector can elect to use a protective barrier to prevent another Visitor from being affected by curses. This is used once following a death scene.
  • Medic: The Visitor can restore vitality to other Visitors. This can only be done if the Visitor is harmed by another Visitor (even if that Visitor is being controlled by the Witch). This can be used once before a Visitor dies.
While some skills sound better than others, it is important to note that having a well-rounded Visitor skill pool is effective in playing. Keep that in mind while creating your characters.
Visitors cannot elect to kill other Visitors outside of Witch controls or Witch trials.

Roles of the Witch
The Witch will be determined before the game begins. The Manager will send a private message to a Visitor informing that they have been randomly selected to play the role of the Witch. In order to protect the identity of the Witch, the Witch must message the Manager to preform the Witch's deeds. A personal letter from the Manager will be sent to the Visitor the spell had been cast upon, informing them on how they should act. The Witch can:
  • Curse: This can cause a Visitor to lose their ability following a death scene.
  • Control: The Witch whispers a deed into the ears of a Visitor and they are forced to comply. Deeds can include, but not limited to, murder, maiming, and suicide.
  • State Change: The Witch casts a spell that alters the mood of another player. Moods can switch from extreme anger to bought of sadness and depression. Can even cause a brief period of insanity. This skill can be used up to twice following a death scene.
  • Ethereal Sleep: The Witch places a slumber spell onto a Visitor, rendering them useless until the Witch wakes them. The Witch can then proceed to torment them within the dream scape. This can be done at any time during the game.
  • Memory Manipulation: A Visitor is convinced of an event that did not happen. This can be done up to two times following the death of a Visitor.
  • Transformation: This can either be done to one's self or to a Visitor. The transformations range between inviting animals or grotesque monsters.
The Witch must also kill one Visitor every 12 cycles. The timing and spacing of each cycle is determined by the Manager and is posted on the IC thread for all to hear. The event of the death will then be broadcasted by the Manager, right down to the last gruesome detail.

Roles of the Hauntlings
Hauntlings are the ghosts of dead visitors. While a Visitor might remain dead for the duration of the game, it is not the end of their role, per say. Hauntlings have various abilities and tasks as the game progresses. They can either:
  1. Help kill the Witch
  2. Help kill the Visitors
Therefore, the role of Hauntlings are very important as to who gets to live and who dies next. There are several traits Hauntlings can take on:
  • Resonance: Hauntlings can give hints and clues as to who the Witch might be. These clues can be accurate or purposefully deceitful.
  • Omnipresence: A Hauntling can know about what other people say/do, even if they are not there directly. This allows the Hautling to know about everything that is going on everywhere as opposed to where they are currently interacting, giving them an upper-hand on knowledge.
  • Transcendence: Hautlings can present themselves to others in a physical form. While in physical form, the Hauntling can interact with other physical objects.
  • Dreamwalking: Hauntlings can infiltrate dream spaces and interact with living Visitors.
  • Possession: Hauntlings can possess the living. This does not mean that the Hautling can utilize the powers of the Visitor.
Hauntlings can also attempt a kill. While Hauntlings cannot successfully kill a Visitor, the attempt itself renders a Visitor incapable of using their skill until the next death scene. Hauntlings do not need to make their intentions anonymous, so they can strike whenever they please.

Witch Trials
If enough information is gathered, a Visitor can call to order a trial and accuse someone of being the Witch. In order to kill the Visitor in question there must be a a unanimous decision to kill the Visitor.
If the Visitor is the Witch then the Visitors have successfully survived the Lovely Inn of Madame Coraline.
If the Visitor is not the Witch then there is a curse placed on the remaining Visitors (as specified by the Manager) and the newly deceased Visitor becomes a Hauntling.

The inn has four floors, not including the attic and the basement. Each floor contains nine suites which are numbered by the floor number, followed by the number of the room (e.g. suite 14 is found on the first floor and is the fourth room on the floor). The first floor also includes a lobby room, adorned with red carpets and golden furniture. There is also a dining hall located right next to the lobby with a table that could seat up to twenty guests. On the second floor, on the opposite sides of the rooms is a spa which includes a sauna. The third floor contains a sun room with lush plants and a great view of the isles may be seen. The fourth floor is still vastly under improvement as the Manager elected to add on a personal theater for future Visitors to enjoy. The attic and the basement are kept secret from the Visitors as the only access to them is by a set of keys that only the Manager has.



Character Sheet Template
The character sheets themselves are rather simple.
  • Name
  • Age
  • Occupation
  • Skill of Choice (one per character)
  • Appearance
  • Personality
  • Background
  • Additional Information

Enjoy your stay!!

Sign-Up​
 
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The Manager stood before the inn checking his watch regularly. It was nearing noon and he had hoped to have his guests checked in and settled down by then. The forecasts all predicted heavy t-storms from twelve to midnight and he didn't need his guests arriving wet and creating unnecessary messes.

And like a miracle from Heaven, the first few guests finally began pushing through the gates. The manager straightened his tie and cleared his throat. "Welcome to inn."
 
Lizzi shyly looked from side to side, observing her surroundings. So this was the... 'lovely'... Inn of Madame Caroline. Whilst Lizzi didn't really like staying at public places like this... she didn't have much choice. She'd heard some rumours here and there that the inn was cursed, but others were always going on about how these rumours were 'hogwash' or whatever. Lizzi just hoped the rumours weren't true, and that this inn was going to be 'lovely' like the name suggested.

"T-thank you..." Lizzi whispered, struggling to look the manager in the eye due to her shy personality. Other people were around, too; Lizzi supposed she wasn't the only one. She looked amongst the other visitors with slight curiosity, before looking to the inn's entrance.

"Um... s...sorry for asking..." Lizzi nervously mumbled to the manager before entering, "But are the rumours about this place being... haunted... true?"
 
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The Manager laughed a little and picked up the Visitor's luggage. His giggles persisted even as he shuffled through the inn's maple doors.

"I'll take your things to your room. You'll be staying in suite 23."
 
Thomas was in a deep thought as he stood around a crowd of customers, waiting to stay in this so called: "Haunted" Inn of Madame Caroline. "I wonder if I made a mistake" he thought, he was pretty nervous about the prospect of dying in a cursed inn, but, this is the most comfortable inn he found, & he had to stay away from that damned town, to stay away from his former boss, most of all. "These rumors are just made for criminals. Wether cursed or not cursed, this is better than to do another ritual." He tried to do deep breathes to calm down his adrenaline, he is thinking of going out right now. But no way he was chickening out right now, it was now or never again. After about 7 breathes or so, a short woman, probably in her 20s or less, went near the manager, & asked him if the rumors were true. He just laughed, adding in this creepy atmosphere. "I don't know if he is delusional, a psycho, or a careless baboon. But I have to stay here..." Thomas muttered in his breath. He walked towards the somewhat creepy manager, "It's now or never..." he walked until he was about 3 feet from the manager's spot. He took a deep breath & said: "What's the number of my suite?"

"It's now or never..."
 
The Manager looked at the young man with a smile and handed him a room key. "Suite 20."
 
Kristen Fairbound
Interactions: None | Location: Lobby

Vacation, at last!

Kristen's happy thoughts were interrupted by a call. She immediately picked it up, her face becoming serious. "Yes, it is Miss Fairbound." Kristen spoke rather officially as she pulled up to the Inn. "You're the replacement while I'm gone? Ah, I'll email you John's schedule for the days I'll be gone. Eh, anything you should know? Well..." Kristen stepped out of the car and began walking into the Inn which was supposedly haunted. It'd make the trip fun at the very least to imagine a witch, demon or malevolent being in general. "He's an impatient man, never stop moving. Also John Seyerman is never wrong do you understand? Also John Seyerman is always lying, never accept his words for truth. Verify without him knowing." Kristen arrived in the Inn, seeing two people arrive ahead of her. "I'm getting a call from John's nutritionist right now I'll talk to you later." Kristen hung up without a goodbye, lying simply to get off the phone.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you. What room would I be staying in or should I visit a desk for that information?" Kristen walked up towards the manager with a pleasant smile. She watched enough scary movies to know if the Inn was supposedly haunted she should probably be nice to the man who seemed to be in charge based on his nameplate. Also considering hauntings didn't exist if the man was actually kidnapping and cutting up people, maybe he'd spare Kristen for being nice.​
 
John Seyerman... he heard. The person which changed his life for the worse is a known companion for the woman he saw. He thought that he could finally relieve himself, only to hear that name one more time. "The rumors are true..." Thomas thought, "for here is a witch known by the man that ruined my life." He decided to wait. The sofa won't walk away, he needs to talk to her. NOW. He stopped right at the very edge of earshot, awaiting this girl's suite number. "This girl, is going to explain herself. I'm not walking away right now."​
 
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The Manager looked at the young woman, the newest Visitor to arrive, curiously. "Suite 13," he muttered, handing her the keys to her room.
 
Lizzi had a slight smile on her face as she thanked the manager for taking her bags... but the smile was covering up for the huge amount of unease she felt. What did the laugh mean? Was he laughing because it was such a silly rumour - surely that was why... he was... laughing...

Either way, Lizzi decided to try and comfort her self by giving a nervous, unsure giggle, before looking down at the floor with a puzzled expression.
"Ha... ha... t-that means no - r...right?"
Oh... she was already starting to look like she was terrified. Lizzi wished she was back at her own home... but... enduring a night in an inn wouldn't be too hard of a task. There pr...probably wasn't anything to be afraid about anyway.

Lizzi heads up to her room, unpacking her things in Suite 23. It was mostly just clothes and other miscellaneous junk such as trinkets, but they were precious to her nonetheless.
 
Bexley Thomas
♠ | ♣ | ♥ | ♦​

Bexley sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time into the phone. "I understand, Dad. I promise I'll be careful." Like everyone else, Bexley and her father had heard the rumors surrounding the Inn of Madame Caroline and like everyone else, Bexley's father was more than wary about them. Of course he protested, saying that she would be better off staying elsewhere, but she wasn't going to let silly talk about a witch keep her from one of the best inn's she could find in town. Right now, he was doing his last attempts at changing her mind. "Please, Bexley. That place is nothing but trouble." Why were people so terrified? Like most ghost stories, she was one-hundred percent sure that the stories of the witch that haunts the inn weren't true. Once again she just promised that she would take care of herself and if anything were to happen, she would let him know. She hoped he'd be satisfied with her answer finally. Without waiting for him to argue with her some more, she hung up with a simple, "I love you, Dad." She couldn't waste anymore time with this. Her mind was set and she wasn't going to change it.

A few others had arrived before she did, no doubt to beat the storm that was coming. Wet clothing sticking to your body wasn't all that appealing, so she rushed all the same. She watched as the previous one to arrive approached who she expected to be the manager and ask for her room and it's keys. She didn't pay much attention to the things the few visitors said. It was none of her business and it was rude to listen in on people's phone calls and conversations when they didn't concern her. Bexley made her way to the manager herself after the woman before her was done. "May I have my room number and key please?" She said simply. She didn't know these people very well, so wasn't keen on making small talk with any of them.
 
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Alana Zōu.

Outfit. | Thinking.

"Keep the change, thanks." Alana replied to the Taxi driver, handing him a fifty while she continued tapping the small letters on her phone. The Chinese-born girl was ecstatic inside, but she refrained herself from hopping into the supposedly 'haunted' motel like a pre-schooler. Her two closest friends thought the perfect gag gift for the skeptical atheist would be a hotel with ghostly rumors of the sort, so here she was standing before the building. It seemed in decent condition and if Alana hadn't known its history, she would've never even spared the hotel a passing glance. She propped up her black Ray-Bans to rest on her wavy hair, her piercing grey-blue eyes noticing people inside already. A grin grew upon her stained lips and she snapped a quick selfie. Alana uploaded it one of her social media accounts with the caption, "new hotels = new mini soaps to use. xo" The immediate vibrating of her phone alerting her of the new likes made her smirk even brighter.
Alana entered into the 'bewitched' inn, her heels making clinks against the dusted floor in an even rhythm. She saw a girl with short and feathery black hair talking to an older man handing out keys of sorts, so she figured he was the man to talk to. The establishment was completely full, but there were enough people around for Alana to wonder if her friends made up the hauntings just to get her into some crappy hotel away from them. Another girl with long caramel hair was watching the older man with a nervous chuckle before heading up to her room, and a man with glasses was staring at a red-headed woman as if her very presence offended him. 'This'll be-...engaging.' Alana thought to herself with judging eyes. She then walked up to the manager beside the wispy-haired girl and presented her best congenial look. "Hello, are you the manager? I'd like to know my suite number, if that's alright."​
 
Thr Manager looked at the Visitor Bexley. He shuffled through his pockets, trying to find the right key. His eyes squinted as he read the number on the key. "Suite 30."

He quickly noticed another Visitor from a distance. Being more adept this time around, he already had a key in hand. "Suite 31."
 
Kristen Fairbound
Interactions: None | Location: Lobby, traveling to her suite

Her room number was given and she thanked the manager before walking off. She looked down at her phone whilst walking, she'd learned from a young age how to stare down at something while still being conscious of her environment enough not to bump into anything. She was emailing the replacement a copy of his schedule which was surprisingly packed pretty solid. After sending a text she received the message from John 'She's hopeless. I'm firing her, when are you coming back?' which made Kristen smile slightly. Though their relationship wasn't official she did feel rather affectionately for the man and knew he felt the same. They tended to behave mostly professionally however. Mostly being the key word. 'She wears a D-cup' Kristen messaged back, getting the response: 'I'm sure it'll just take her time to adjust.'

Kristen gave a small laugh before putting her phone in her back pocket. This was supposed to be vacation, not pamper to John-cation. Kristen gave a small sigh. The man was utterly hopeless, sometimes Kristen felt to be a babysitter rather than a personal assistant. She used the key to open up her room. John had booked the vacation for her as a 'I'm sorry I'm probably giving you gray hairs' gift. So she was very interested to see what kind of room John had gotten her. Nothing less than the best, that was his motto.

After opening it she simply stayed outside and stared at her suite, the whole 'the door closes after you and locks itself' part of every haunted hotel/Inn getting under her skin a bit.



​
 
Alana Zōu.

Outfit. | Thinking.

Alana gave the manager another favorable smile, and took the key with neatly groomed hands. "Thanks, sir." She acknowledged with a nod. Alana twirled the key around her fingers and gave a side-eye glance towards the girl beside her. She waited until the stranger decided to walk away to slip her phone into her purse and to give the manager a fleeting look of doubt. "So, uhm." Alana started off. "The rumors. Are they true? I don't want to get my hopes up." If the man decided to give her cheesy/ominous response she'd most likely just try to slip him some money. She was genuinely interested in the whole 'life-after-death' theory, and Alana didn't want to waste her time at a run-of-the-mill hotel with a fancy history. Alana would obviously still stay, seeing as there was nowhere else to go, but she wouldn't petty over moving vases or eerie figures in the night. 'Please say yes, please say yes...' She chanted over and over in her mind.​
 
Tha Manager looked at his watch. The hands aligned neatly over the number 12. He looked up at the Visitor with a smile.

"You're about to find out." The Manager looked to the house. "A curse has already begun."
 
Lizzi was relaxing in her room - Suite 23, thinking idly over things as she lay on her back at the bed, watching the ceiling with a daydreaming kind of look. The rooms were... comfortable, at least. Perhaps this place was actually quite inviting... the rumours could have just given it a little mystery. Lizzi gave a slightly reassured smile as she lay a hand through her golden hair, and looked up at the clock. It had just struck 12 O' Clock.

*BONG!*

Lizzi was about to lay down again, but something felt... different... as the twelve bongs of the grandfather clock echoed around her room. Her head felt cloudy, and she felt like she was losing grasp of her own self control. A voice in her mind whispered: Kill her.

"What... is..." Lizzi mumbled to herself, before her eyes looked different, and her face turned to a shade of pale as she lost her own self-control, being forced to her feet. She walked out the door, her face emotionless - only one thing had been forced into Lizzi's controlled mind.

"I... have... to kill... her."

Lizzi wandered the halls, walking like a zombie under someone else's control - studying the room numbers.

Her mind forced her to look for Room Number 13. Lizzi's shambling footsteps echoed through the halls as she looked for the door number that contained her target, ignoring everyone and everything else around her.
 
Bexley Thomas
♠ | ♣ | ♥ | ♦​

Bexley didn't hesitate to take the key from the manager. She had a long day and was ready to lie down. She grabbed her things and rushed her feet to her room. Unlocking her door, she sighed in content. "Nice." She was happy with the room. The place was as lovely as the name mentioned. She was sure that the place deserved a full house. However, the rumors gave the place a bad name, keeping people away. She wanted a shower, but the bed was calling to her more. Bex dropped her luggage where she stood and immediately went to hop on her bed. It was soft and inviting. She didn't have any intention of getting up for the rest of the night. She lay in silence up until her phone rang. More than likely it was her father again wanting to make sure she was okay. She reached into her pocket and pulled the device out and up to her ear. "Hello?" She answered. Her father certainly didn't disappoint. "Bex. Are you okay? Did you get settled in alright?" She was about to answer when she turned her head and looked at the clock settled on the wall as it struck twelve. She just stared at it for a moment, forgetting that her father was on the line. "Bex? Bexley, are you there?" His worried voice was at the back of her mind. Her focus was still on the clock, until she finally began to acknowledge her father on the phone. "Sorry, Dad. Was distracted. I'm okay."

They continued to talk for about ten to fifteen more minutes before she hung up. Bexley glanced at the clock again, then rolled over to face the other side. It wasn't long before she had fallen asleep.​
 
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RJ Diosdado
She had barely caught herself alive and not in pieces as the skies tore itself apart with howling winds and thunder. The onslaught of the storms had trailed after her in her skittish hour drive to the Inn which she had just heard of one or more nights ago. It hadn't mattered, though, until RJ managed to settle herself into a shivering ball of anxiety inside the Inn which grew in its customers. They spoke in hushed tones, barely lifted their busy gazes to meet her as she had unforgivingly crashed into the place. She prayed to every god and saint her mother taught her to worship in tongue and in thought for the consideration of the people around her who occupied themselves with their own business. Any unwanted attention would drive her up the edge of her mental capacities and she might lose it before she could even reach her quarters.

Her quarters, she noted in her brain, repeating the word into a mantra of safety and focus in her head as her wild, red-rimmed eyes searched for some sort of service person. Her vision swarmed itself with a hazy montage of memory and reality, the disorder once again forbidding her to function normally. She had driven all the way to the remote area of the Inn on the most impulsive basis for a decision in her entire life - a "vacation" - away from her cozy cot of a bedroom that sheltered, with much misfortune, both her loveable books and her nightmares. Meds stopped working, cognitive therapy proved inefficient, and so by some innate desire to flee from another emotional trauma she packed what she could never live without and drove into the stupid storm to the stupid inn. Safe from the monsters back at home that kept strangling her with projected fears, but alone and feeble in the sea of unfamiliar faces and impersonal rich walls and antique everything. This place was fucking old.

Her quarters, she noted in her brain, repeating the word, a mantra of safety and focus in her head as she searched for the manager. Her vision swarmed itself with a hazy montage of memory and reality. She had driven all the way here on the most impulsive basis for a decision in her life from her cozy cot of a bedroom that sheltered, with much misfortune, both her loveable books and her nightmares. Meds stopped working, cognitive therapy proved inefficient, and so by some innate desire to flee from an emotional overwhelm she packed what she could not live without and drove into the stupid storm to the stupid inn. Safe from the monsters back at home that kept strangling her in her sleep, but alone and feeble in the sea of unfamiliar faces and rich walls and antique everything.

RJ shook herself with a grim scowl and patted her bags and clothes. She had brought her camera with her as well as the rest of her equipment, a few books, and clothes that she would cycle three days through. All ready – ill-prepared for a neurotic person of her calibre, but ready nonetheless. She was fucked either way.

"Manager, manager, manager..." Her chapped lips and parched throat made way for a hoarse voice and she kept her words soft in a second. Man, she had to have been born on drugs. No one could be this jittery, this wired in the head, tightly knot in every place and felt like thunder was bound to destroy the inn in a minute. Her eyes scanned the area and found a man, solemn and observant, handing out keys to visitors with particularly ominous eyes. She had read and heard of the rumors buzzing about regarding the history of the inn, but it stroke her more as a marketing ploy than any real paranormal phenomenon. If the stories of hauntings and horror were true, RJ would be thankful in all her bitterness, because finally some distress in her outside world would be able to balance the chaos that continually ripped her mind apart.

Not so thankful when she heard a faint but ominous chime - it was twelve. How surprising. She felt half like a college student cursing herself for running away from her responsibilities and half stuck with her feet on the ground and her ears straining for the sound of the clock. The whispering wrapped itself in a halt and noise had died down with less and less people loitering around the check-in area. The world moved through thick fluid water and she suffocated under the jolting atmosphere that had begun to settle in. She just wanted to get to her room now.

She parted through the remaining lot of customers despite having no bulk of people blocking her way – their individual senses overwhelmed her own, and just passing by a few of them made her want to puke. She was so sure to make friends in this quick escape. "Manager?" She confirmed the man and looked at his shoes. As tall as she was, she felt smaller than the little ring on her finger. "Key, please."
 
♣​​ THOMAS ​♣​​
_______________________________________________________________​

Suite 13... the girl's room. Thomas went inside his room & set down his briefcase. Quickly glancing at the grandfather clock, which was pointing at 12:00, he quickly locked the door, putted the keys in his pants, & then ran into Suite 13. While he was running he saw the short woman walking towards where he was going. "Creepy Girl..." he thought "Nevermind..." he continued to run, then he saw it. There was a 13 in the door. His Goal Door. He quickly opened the door, & said: "Excuse me for my manners, I'm Thomas, we need to talk about..." he gulped, "John Seyerman." He loathed at himself for saying his name, but he has questions that needed to be answered fast. He saw the girl, from the way he saw her, she was surprised with a hint of anger. "Would you mind if you can lock the door & have a quiet talk about him. I have questions for you."

As they sat down, he traced back in his memory to figure out what was the girl doing. He noticed that her eyes were abnormal, like terrified, he noticed the cool air around her that made her really suspicious. Thomas backtracked more, he suddenly noticed a glinting object that the girl is holding. "Was that a knife?" he thought. He snapped out of his stupor, the girl will have to wait. He has questions to ask for this girl. & she better have a good explanation...
 
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