<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/8a/Black-and-white-blonde-eyes-girl-hair-lips-Favim.com-66962_large.jpg) </div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Brazil<br/><strong>Crime:</strong>Attempted patricide<br/><strong>Location</strong>Deli<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Group 1<br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/>Phaedra had made her way passed Brazil in the stairwell, apparently quite eager to see what was upstairs, even more so then she. A brow would loft as she shifted closer to the wall, allowing Phaedra to go up. Brazil paused within the stairwell to continue to listen to the conversations going on down below. They were all speaking about voices. Her lead would lower, hands shoving deep within the pockets of her leather jacket as she closed her eyes, listening to everything. Phaedra rustling around upstairs, and those gathered below talking.<br/><br/>Voices. She had heard them too. They had warned her about her father. Sick fuck. She'd had too! The voices had<em>told</em>her what he was going to do to her! Her hands would clench to fists within her pockets, and she would whip her head up as Phaedra made her way back down the stairs to the group below, blue eyes narrowing and staring at the back of the woman. Tim was speaking on watching out for her, and she would snort softly to herself. Gathering her composure and cool demeanor about her like armor once again, Brazil made her way up the stairs and into the room, gazing about. While everyone was making friends downstairs, she went into the small bathroom, turning on the water to splash her face. Sighing softly, running wet hands back through white tresses, she would turn her attention to the computer. She had noted the file cabinet, but bypassed it to plop wearily into the chair, staring at the ancient electronics, eying the added memory chip port. She wondered what the point of having such an old piece of technology would serve. Especially a deli owner.