<div class="floatleft">(http://img819.imageshack.us/img819/3311/filmnoir3.jpg)</div><strong>Drake Holland</strong><br/><strong>Age:</strong>35<br/><strong>Crime:</strong>Aggravated assault, torture, attempted murder<br/><strong>Location:</strong>2nd floor, Deli<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Brazil, Natalie, Phaedra<br/><hr/>Drake clutched white-knuckled at the back of Brazil's chair as she clicked through the Voice Counseling Profiles.<strong>Doctor Jennifer Hudgeworth. Eden. Yggsdrasil. CoY.</strong>All of these names, Drake felt, were important.  All of them were pieces in the great puzzle, the overall mystery.   He tried to read as much of it as he could, whatever it was that was on screen, but Blondie was simply moving too fast.  He growled, frustrated, on the verge of telling her to slow the fuck down.<br/><br/>He was dimly aware of Natalie, in the bathroom, screaming about something or other; in any other circumstances, perhaps he would have felt compelled to help.  But nothing she could possibly have had to say was more important than this.  This was proof that<del>they weren't crazy</del>that they hadn't started out crazy, but that someone, or some<em>thing</em>, was driving them insane.  This was evidence that they were all puppets, living chess pieces in a macabre and sinister game.<br/><br/>And their time was running out.<br/><br/>Natalie was spared only a single glance to make sure she hadn't slit her wrists open, that she wasn't bleeding from the throat.  She needed a knight in shining armor, someone to put his arm around her and tell her everything was going to be okay.    And Drake, unfortunately, couldn't be that man.<br/><br/>Then he was aware of Phaedra, telling them all that the big guy downstairs was losing it.<em>What are you two trying to do with that old dinosaur? </em>she was asking.<em>And why do we want to know where the shrink lived?</em><br/><br/>Drake turned his suspicious stare on her.<br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_u">She hadn't admitted to hearing voices.</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><strong>she was in on the whole thing</strong></span></div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;"><strong>DrAk3 h1s5eD b3tW3#n hi5 T3Eth, r#Ach(D OUt t0 t4r0tTlE HeR...</strong></span></span><br/><br/>...and then remembered that he had seen Phaedra's file in there, as well, among the others.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Name: Phaedra Leitner<br/>Age: 27<br/>Personality Traits: Repressed, Detached, Intelligent<br/>Fears: Finding out she really is soulless. Ending up like her mother, abandoned and alone and so buried by crushing bitterness that even the relief of fantasy is lost to her. Being without her virtual game world.</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><em>(Don't give in to paranoia, or it'll destroy ya.)</em><br/><br/>"It's...we're all in there," he said, recomposing himself, sucking in his breath slowly, the madness fading from his eyes.  "All of us.  Whatever's going on, whatever's happening...the shrink knew something about it. "<br/><br/>He was about to say more, but was interrupted by a terrible crash as Brazil shoved the monitor to the floor.  He whipped back in shock as the display bounced past his feet, the LCD cracked.  "What the FUCK?" he roared, as the blond woman stomped past him.  With Phaedra distracting him, he hadn't been able to see the address.  And clearly, given the current state of the ancient monitor, he wasn't going to get any more information here.  He started after Brazil in shock, only having the presence of mind to stop and retrieve the tablet's data card from the antiquated drive.  "Seriously, what the fuck was that?  You do realize we're all dead unless we figure this thing out, right?"