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Breathe in...breathe out...breathe in...

Samantha's eyes were closed as she focused solely on her breathing and calming her boiling blood. Literally shaking with rage, she barely felt Karen's arm on her shoulder as the idea of pummeling Eliana was dominating most of her thoughts at the moment.

When she felt she could at least form a coherent sentence, she turned back to Eliana, emerald eyes flashing. "I don't know what you mean by having to 'work' to get in here, but I'm pretty sure I don't want to know. Personally, I'm wanting more and more each day to get the hell out of this place. If it makes you happy, you can have my space here. I'm out."

Turning back to Karen, she lowered her voice so that Eliana couldn't hear. "Can we get out of here? I don't care where, just so long as I don't have to see or hear her anymore."

Eliana only smirked as she watched the pair retreat. Mission complete.

"Oh don't worry...I'll be seeing more of you again in the future, sweetie," she snapped back with equal sugary venom. "Real soon..."

Eying her beer bottle, she was pleased to see she still had about half a bottle left. She'd finish that soon enough, then head back inside. Leaning back against the building, she brought the bottle up to her lips, eyes closed as she relished the feeling and taste of the alcohol flowing down her throat.

Phil casually watched the other two girls leave, leaning on his broom as though nothing had happened. He glanced at Eliana and let the cigarette smoke sputter from his mouth as he spoke. "I'm guessing you're not exactly on the same level as those pawns. Very amusing."

He took another pull from his cigarette, then reached over and tapped its butt against Eliana's bottle. "Bad habit, lass." He cracked an ironic smirk, looking her up and down with that sleazy glint in his eye. "Now, I wonder what services you offered to get into the position you're in?"

Samantha sighed. Her blood still ran hot, but for now, she wasn't going to do anything she'd regret. She was back in control, even if she wasn't exactly what one would call 'calm.'

"To be honest," Samantha drawled, flopping down beneath the tree tiredly, "I have no idea. I'm not liking any of the ideas that my mind is producing though. I do know one person who might know what's going on. Possibly the only one on this whole damn island who knows for sure."

Eyes narrowed with barely contained fury, she stared sightlessly out over the pond as her mind began turning with the possibilities of the upcoming inevitable confrontation. "And you can be sure of it...dear Uncle Carl and I are going to have a long, serious talk..."

Phil chuckled again. He liked this one.

"Perhaps. But I don't really see the point. I'd say my guess is as good as your word." Not that your word counts for much.

"You certainly seem confident of yourself. Almost like you don't need any friends..." He circled her, talking slowly and softly. "... in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar, even downright questionable people." Then, with a crooked, evil grin, he added; "People like me."

Phil half turned away, but continued to stare at her face, as though trying to peer into the shorter woman. "Yes, You're either very arrogant, or extremely confident of yourself." He blew cigarette smoke over her head. "... Or maybe confident in the people you know, eh lass?" The janitor pointed the tip of his cigarette at her, looking through the smoke at her eyes. He'd seen eyes like that before. Pain. Regret. Hate. Anger. Resentment.

Perfect.

The people you THINK you know. I know you've already judged me. And I'll bet you don't know bollocks, my dear.

"Well, pointless to some." Phil grinned. "For one thing, you've got a lot of time to waste, believe me, and for another, confidence is a good thing. Arrogance is bad." He spoke like an adult chastising a child. Just for fun. "You seem to have been through a lot. But you haven't learned that the two can be similar and yet completely independent of each other." Phil resisted the urge to glance back at the facility. "You'll certainly learn that here, miss." And I'm not going to tell you from whom.

Phil paced in front of her, facing away. Intimidate her? Maybe. He didn't actually think she'd get intimidated, but she had read his body language easily enough.
Hmm. Smart, perceptive AND Arrogant as all hell. Fun. It certainly was tempting to come out and play. But the pieces weren't in position yet. They wouldn't be for some time. Patience.

The janitor spun on his heel to face Eliana. He flicked the butt of the cigarette towards the plastic bag he'd hung out as a makeshift trashcan until the real ones were installed.

"You take great pride in being in control, don't you? What, with your intelligence and overbearing personality, I'm sure you don't have a problem gaining control of any situation. Almost any."

Phil kept the amusement off his face. He knew what she was talking about. This island was not what it seemed. Not to the poor bastards affectionately being called 'subjects' or 'patients'. Not to the guards or scientists. Not to him or Eliana. Not even to Dr. Hakan.

The trouble with 'the trick' as Eliana put it, was that nobody was in complete control. Sure, Dr Hakan directed the show. But not everyone played his game. And, from experience, being in charge was something of a temporary state. Even Dr Hakan had powerful or crucial friends he had to keep happy.

"You know, lass..." The janitor reached into a pocket and pulled out a hip flask, which he'd kept hidden until now. He took a swig and smiled. "That's a pretty good appraisal of this place." Then, with a glint in his eye, "Better watch out for who's using YOU, and the eh.... unforseen factors involved with the hierarchy of this place."

Samantha cringed almost unnoticeably before answering, "Err...I guess you can. If you really want to, but..." She paused, looking back at Karen with a sheepish grin. "It doesn't sound too much like a guy's name, does it?"

There was a time long ago when she would have ripped someone's head off for even trying to call her that. Of course, she'd had other personal issues at the time. She'd hated being called 'Sam' because she thought of it as a guy's name only. She had enough issues with people calling her 'masculine' and such because of her choice of activities. Just because she didn't like wearing dresses and make-up and other 'girly' things that people thought all girls were supposed to like, she wondered why that apparently made her any less feminine. She'd started developing a serious problem with the issue, which is why she used to jump on people for calling her 'Sam.' Over the years, she'd finally decided that if someone had issues with her over something as silly as that, then it wasn't worth the trouble of keeping them as a friend. If they ever were one to start with. Who cares if anyone thought she was feminine or not?

"Well, you got a small demonstration earlier of my favorite pasttime, if you can call it that. I used to compete in martial arts tournaments long ago, in fact. I had been hoping to get back to that again, though I'm starting to wonder now how likely that might be," she trailed off on a dark note. Sighing and shaking her head, she continued. "I don't know why I'm talking so much, but, if it can be counted as a hobby, I like enjoying good food!" She laughed suddenly, a strange feeling after the fiery rage she had been fighting down only minutes before. "Good food, dancing, and...err...singing." Her voice softened dramatically on the last word, slightly embarrassed. She continued talking to cover her momentary lapse. "Sounds like a heck of a night on the town, eh?"