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The janitor scratched idly at the three day old stubble he'd allowed to grow on his narrow jaw. It matched well with his un-ironed cleaning uniform and his non-standard white sneakers, all of which suggested a particularly sloppy individual.

Not that he was alone in this. A number of the guards, particularly the ones assigned to outdoor or field duties, were also starting to appear slovenly. The discipline always did tend to break down a little as the weather got warmer, and the afternoon heat meant the guards on duty out in the yard slouched lazily against the fences. Suckers.

Phil had arranged his schedule to be indoors during this time of day, specifically, mopping the cafeteria after lunch. The air conditioner whirred overhead, the occasional draft of cool air a pleasant relief from the manual labor that was his day job. Of course, he wasn't allowed to smoke in the dining room, but some of his shadier deals were conducted in here. The chefs, after all, were even worse than the guards when they wanted contraband. The janitor had already netted a set of fridge keys, usually off limits even to the cleaning staff. The price? Only a few good Vermillion Island cigars (top quality of course). Now he could get access to cold meat whenever he wanted, if only they'd given him permission to actually take and cook the meat along with the keys. At least they made blatant theft easier.

Phil turned around, glimpsed the clock and saw he'd finished far earlier than usual. For some reason, when the brats and emos didn't eat together, there was a lot less mess. They'd been a little subdued recently.

Phil quickly stole a glance around and backed into a recessed a spot where he knew there were no security cameras looking and took a n** of rum from his hip flask. He was in no hurry to move outside and get started on the yard.

The crash had a curious effect on Phil. He quietly stood stock still for a second, his expression unreadable, not that anyone could see it anyhow. He screwed the lid back on his flask, replaced it in his pocket, and, gripping the mop handle tightly, he strode out into the cafeteria. As expected- his cleanly mopped floor showed evidence of a spill, down by the door. Also, as expected, it was one of the lab's special guests. Without stopping to even look at the offending individual, he rounded a table, making straight for the crouched form picking up spilled food. His quick stride was uncharacteristically quiet, as though he was gliding rather than walking.

The lanky janitor let the mop hit the floor behind the young woman, the wet 'slop' announcing his presence. He had a grouchy look on his face, not bothering to hide his irritation this time. She had a reddish tinge to her pale skin- classic sunburn. Judging from the way it seemed to mostly be on one side of her body, she'd fallen asleep in the sun. Always a risk, particularly when it got humid.

"Big surprise. Finish early and something always comes up to hold you back." He wasted no time beginning to mop some of the soupier portions of the meal once she'd piled all the solids back onto the tray, even expertly maneouvring the mop around and between her feet before she'd moved from her spot. "What's your story? Fell asleep in the sun and missed lunch?"

"Hayden's..?" Phil chuckled sourly. "Oh yeah, we get along SWELL." He thought he'd seen this girl before SOMEWHERE, but couldn't quite put his finger on it. As for why she thought he and Hayden were friends... well they didn't hang out all that often, so it would have had to have been one of those rare occasions they participated in something together with their usual mutual veiled suspicion.

Come to think of it though, Hayden and Phil did treat each other with less antagonism than many of the other individuals on the island. But Friends? No.

swirled the mop around the spill, containing the liquid before it spread too much. He noticed the mop had gotten most of the spill but was pretty saturated, and dripped brown soupy stuff back onto the floor. He watched the young girl set off with the tray and waved his hand, trying to get his attention. "No, no! Don't worry about that! Just put it on the nearest table for now. Get my bucket, it's the red one behind the last row of tables in the back." He gestured at the large red bucket full of soapy fluid in the back corner of the cafeteria. He looked forward again and waved off a chef who'd popped his head in to see what all the commotion was about. He neglected to mention or remember that the bucket was fairly heavy, and caught himself in time. She was fairly athletic looking, but it was always the athletic ones that were eager to show off. "Careful not to slip bringing that thing over here!" He yelled out.

Phil's head came up at that. The lounge, of course. His mind briefly wandered back to that day, and how badly Hayden had been squirming. He idly noted in his memory the other girl that had been there that day; his instincts told him he'd have to monitor these two, they had the capacity to be.... 'useful'.

He glanced over at her 'Wooh...' and winced; sure the girl would spill the mop bucket too, but she somehow kept her feet and successfully brought the bucket to him. He eyed her hand warily and decided it couldn't hurt to let her have a go.

"Maybe you DO deserve a chance." He tossed the mop handle to her casually. "You cleaned up that last mess pretty well, that other time."

Phil chuckled. "Kids...." Though, truth be told, he loved cartoons when he was younger. In fact, not so long ago, even.

"Swirl the mop- spread the fibres a bit." It was an old fashioned mop, not one of the wierd new sponge types. Phil preferred the versatility of the old school mops, but there was an art to it. "Well, I have to hit a couple of hallways before going out to give the exercise yard a once over." He hoped that little wench Eliana wasn't out there- much as he liked messing with her, something told her that for the moment he needed to keep his distance. "And I can certainly source you some Aloe. Sure are enough doctors around here to supply it." He thought for a moment, noting that while one of their offices was just off hallway IL-2, the next stop on the list for him. "No, swirl like this..."

He reached around her and grabbed the mop at a point just above her hands. He dunked it in the bucket and pressed his foot down on the wringing mechanism before positioning the mop over the edge of the spill and twisted the handle, causing the fibers to swing outwards, then planted the mop on the ground while they were all still swirling out. "Now you've got more surface area and a scrub base."

He backed away a bit and let her get accustomed to doing it his way. At length, he piped up again.

"So Hayden WAS trying to cover for you girls." He winked deviously. "Don't worry, I wouldn't tell on old mate Hayden there." Not without enough of a reason.

Phil smiled toothily. "Oh, I suspect Hayden doesn't entirely trust me. Then again, I've noticed a general lack of trust around this island. It just kind of comes with the territory around here." Poor Hayden. He did have a tendency to get himself worked up sometimes. "I think maybe he thought I might get nasty on you girls if I found a big mess." Or worse.

At any rate, Phil wouldn't have done anything to them, but boy would he have been grumpy. "Ah well, I don't blame him. I'm known to be a pretty devious guy, don't you think?" He reined in his smirk and drew out a long piece of cloth, his name embroidered on it. "I think that floor looks pretty good. Here, you got some on you." He pointed directly at her cheek, chest and a bit of her hair. "Maybe I should start asking the boss if I can take on apprentices." He quipped, half in jest.

"Let me see then... If we work our way to hallway IL-2... that's the one intersecting the hallway just outside the food court, it's little more than a quick mop job and I can get some Aloe for you."

Phil was taken aback- for once- that she thought he looked 'kind'. It'd been a while since he'd been called that. "If you say so. You got most of it..." He took the cloth from her and dabbed her other cheek, taking the last of the obvious blobs from her face.

Pocketing the cloth (too big to be a handkerchief, but too thin to be a tea towel), he hefted up the bucket and gestured for her to bring the mop. He listened to her words impassively as he began to walk to the door. "Well, I guess the doc shouldn't be too long about it. They been keeping you up to date with changes in your condition?"

Phil inwardly fumed to himself. None of the doctors around CRONUS were good for anything except experimentation anymore. That in some cases you had to approach them aggressively for minor assistance highlighted this fact. Aloe? You'd think a bunch of doctors could spare that without being confronted!

It was a good thing Phil had both the means and the ruthlessness to get what he wanted.

... Kira needed. He was entitled to at least one good deed a week.

"I don't care either way, as long as it's not 'Peanut'." Phil answered, referencing his old high school nickname. "Keep up, lass." He urged, his gliding step not slowing, since that would cause the bucket to slosh around a little.

Of course, there was no reason she NEEDED to stay here, given that there was nothing wrong with her per se. Phil knew though, that it would be better for her to stay here for the time being, under observation, and in the company of those who wouldn't completely freak out during coming times.

And then she mentioned the murals. It hadn't taken him very long to clean- chalk was chalk, after all, but the scale and quality they'd attained before he'd been called in did cause the event to stick in his memory.

"Sure did. Was that you, then?" He mused. "The average sized sketchpad a little too small for your artistic style?"