<div class="floatleft">(http://i631.photobucket.com/albums/uu35/greytrail/Elliquiy%20avatars/Disney%20college/Phil1_zpsa01356f9.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Character name:</strong>Phil Satyrios<br/><strong>Who:</strong>Emma, open<br/><strong>When:</strong>early morning<br/><strong>Where:</strong>stadium bleachers<br/><strong>Warning:</strong>nope, he's pretty low key right now!<br/><hr/>Oil change? Great, more urban dictionary searches to decipher the babies' warped language. This was the sort of shit they never tell you about being a teacher…<br/><br/>Sure enough, their peeping tomlet was perched up in the shadows of the bleachers, completely unaware of his presence until he came to a halt on the concrete steps beside her. The startle that rattled her perversely amused him, left him with the upper hand.<br/><br/>"Don't look so shocked, girlie. Nothing happens in this stadium without me knowing about it. Oh, those idiots like to think they get away with shit, but that cockerel egos crowin'."<br/><br/>A nod of his ugly hat-- it helped him focus, dammit-- indicated his team, thankfully doing their damn jobs with enthusiasm. While not the chatty sort, he expected curiosity from the girl, smirking faintly. As he stomped down the stairs towards his field, Phil called out over his shoulder to her.<br/><br/>"Feel free to hang around. You're discreet and those pups work harder when they've got some appreciative eyes on 'em that don't distract unduly."