(Let's do both! I'm happy to update my plot thread whenever possible; at least that way it's being used! Lol, Melo. Also, I'm sorry Alphonse is so... um... cagey. I'm trying to sort out how he would interact with other males, since I've realized he actually hasn't met all that many who aren't kids. 8D; )
That smirk and Nigel's tone did not escape Alphonse's notice. Instantly on the defensive again, his eyes narrow. "... Well, yes. I was scrubbing blood off of the floor, a copious amount." He admits. Another one of his delicate, affronted shudders shakes his thin frame. He hates the sight and smell of blood. He's hated it since he was a Pokemon, watching his brethren engage in battle -- hated it even more when he awoke in the facility, senses drowning in it...
He lowers his voice. "I have my suspicions... but I know better than to go around asking questions. It's not as though we'll get any real answers -- not alive, anyway." He learned years ago to be careful with his questions, and the questions he entertained. And this... Nigel didn't mean any harm, he's fairly certain. The fact that he is injured helps. 'But this is going nowhere,' Alphonse thinks, feeling strangely frantic. 'What does he want?'
It's just idle conversation, and yet... "Come to think of it, I really should be cleaning now." Alphonse says with more confidence than he feels. He throws in a sneer for effect. "That floor is most likely ruined by now." He would normally add a polite goodbye, wait for it to be returned, and then go on his way, but now he immediately turns on his heel to walk with quick strides, hoping that didn't sound like an invitation.
