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"Well, if you'll pardon my brazen assumptions, I can't see what else you may be trying to be, since you're obviously not whatever that is."

She probably being a little more mean that she would be on other days, but this doesn't seem to be one of those other days. Today, the smallest things seem to be setting off the Norsewoman.

As Bridgit turns around, Alva's hand clasps down on her shoulder without any hint of mercy in it. It doesn't look like this newcomer is afraid that she's trying to seduce "him", and that added to her current mood and ever-present pride is just about all she needs to see. "If the doctor weren't so blind about such things, he wouldn't have believed for one second that you are who you are, sir," Alva smirks. "Now, George, I suggest trying again to tell me who you are, or more people may have to learn things about you I believe you're trying to hide."

Alva doesn't seem bothered by the girl's discomfort. She's made people more uncomfortable, after all- though then again, they usually weren't also so angry.

"You sound a bit desperate for me to believe you, Mr. Pemberton," she responds silkily, though it's obvious the silk is covering an extremely sharp icicle. "And you underestimate the influence I may have here. There is a Spaniard here who is locked in his room and very closely watched, and I am partially responsible for that happening to him." The circumstances surrounding that are left out, but the statement still technically isn't a lie. "There is also a dog here who has progressed far enough to be able to talk, but she still has the smell of a dog. And she delights in being a favorite, so I imagine that if the doctor doesn't believe me, he will believe her."

Her hand leaves Bridgit's shoulder, but finds a new place lightly holding the younger woman's lifted hand. "My, but your hands aren't very masculine at all! You might want to keep them hidden when you speak with Alphonse. Being a surgeon, he takes hands... into great consideration."

"I take it your father wanted a son?" the older woman can't help but quip back. "That's a feeling I may understand. My father raised me around boys. One or two of them took to calling me... it would be 'she-wolf', in English." Her smile now is very spiderish, but oddly sympathetic.

Alva lowers her hand, and clasps it with loosely with the other behind her back. "It might not have been the most ideal way for a woman to grow up, but now I feel as if I know my way around men quite well," she continues, having broken eye contact with Bridgit and now gazing at nothing in particular. "And now we're stuck on this silly little island surrounded by them, with more being made as we speak."

Even though the girl isn't showing it, she feels as if she's gotten her point across well enough. Tossing out more insults than she already has doesn't seem as appealing right now. It must have been the uneasy sleep from the dreadful heat.

"Ah, but I prattle on, don't I?" Alva sighs, amused and ashamed at herself. "I must be getting old!"

"What's wrong with men?" she parrots back with a musing tone. "If you want a simple answer, the fact that they are men would suffice. I suppose that wouldn't be enough for you, however, would it?" A bleak smile, and a small shrug. "They are completely barbaric creatures, distinctly prone to lechery, drink, and foolishness, and hide their imperfect traits behind blatantly feigned perfection and hypocritical haughtiness, with disregard for everything that roams the world that isn't to their own benefit or continuation of their names."

She tilts her head in thought. "There are a few exceptions to this, but they are too far between to be accounted for."

"No, I meant exactly what I said," Alva replies.

It seems that "George" is getting more and more worried by the minute. Meanwhile, on the older woman's end, she is starting to become ravenously hungry. Hopefully there's something at her flat that'll help. She's starting to get annoyed at her inability to cook... maybe Chris could help her out with that.

"Are they?" she says back slowly and smoothly, stepping around closer to the door of the boarding house. "The doctor certainly is, and all the other men I have conversed with are- at least in some way. I'm fortunate enough that my father wasn't like that, I admit, but there are really very few men who aren't that way."

Blah, blah, blah, ramblings of a naive youth, blah, blah, bla- oh, what's this?

Alva's grin suddenly widens to that predatory, spidery expression once again. "Well. You are quite through trying in vain to make me believe that you are something you are clearly not, yes?" She walks slowly and deliberately back up to Bridgit, and consolingly pats her shoulder. "It was a worthy effort, seeing how vile I can be sometimes. It's amusing, really-" -a small chuckle- "-how it seems so easy to decieve a doctor who is supposed to be so phenomenal."

"You needn't have had to put forth such effort. Simply having short hair and saying you're a man will give him cause to believe it, he's so blind. And perhaps, if I decide I am in a good enough mood, I may be willing to assist you in this little necessary evil of yours."

She could feel the hate emanating from the shoulder she was patting. It felt good, much like control. Using hatred as a tool is a form of control, after all.

"Ah, why wouldn't I? It would make things on the island more interesting for both of us, don't you think?" She actually did want to keep Alphonse thinking Bridgit is a man and would really only spill the truth in some sort of desperate situation. Already, she was thinking of how crazy she could drive the man with this; holding a secret over the head of the man in charge of the island was just a delightful thought. "You would have to be willing to do me a few small tasks once in a while, but I can help you become much more convincing as a man. We would of course have to start with certain parts of your appearance."

Alva steps back a little ways, sizing up the younger woman. "The most obvious problem can be solved easily enough. You should be grateful that this happened in front of someone who wants to help you and is handy with a needle."