Alphonse was comfortably napping in the old, tattered hammock fastened between two minor pipelines. His hammer was leaning against the wall, still sopping wet from the cleaning it had gone through half an hour ago. Since the air in the sewers was bound to be rather moist, and thus it took a long time for things to dry. Either way it was better that it was soaked but clean, rather than the other option where it would still have been soaked, but this time in blood. Next to it Alphonse had placed his sword, which he rarely used in actual combat, but was a trusted practicing companion. His left hand had been wound in bandages, as it had been injured a while ago. Not that Alphonse was particularly in pain or even cared to be more careful than usual because of it, but at least it stopped him from scratching it when it itched so terribly.
The blonde rat was woken up by the sound of someone opening and shutting the door to their makeshift, one room apartment loudly, while muttering something grumpily under his breath. Groaning softly, Al sat up and rubbed his eyes with his uninjured hand as he glanced around drowsily, trying to locate the source of the muttering.
Soon the back of a small but lanky old man came into view, a walking stick carved out of bone in one hand and a bottle of plum wine in the other. He didn't seem to have noticed Alphonse yet. Letting out a slight sigh of relief, the blonde youth dropped down onto the dirty ground as silently as he could, grabbing his hammer on the way as he snuck past the grumpy old man and towards the door-
"And where do you think where you're going, Alphonse?!"
Before Alphonse had any time to react, he could feel the walking cane pressing hard against his neck, the bone feeling cool against his skin. The old main definitely was a lot swifter than he appeared… then again, this was to be expected from most rats- even seniors.
"I-I…" Alphonse wearily turned around as soon as the old man relaxed his grip of the cane, letting it slide away from the blonde youth's neck and back onto the floor where it belonged. "I'm sorry, gramps… I was just…" Alphonse truly wasn't sure what sort of excuse he should try to come up with. His grandfather wasn't one to buy most crap, and Alphonse had never been a bad liar. The way his grandfather was scrutinizing him as he feebly searched for the right words didn't exactly make it any easier for Alphonse, and he could feel a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.
"Well, before you took a nap when you didn't think I'd notice," his grandfather said, breaking the sudden silence that had settled across the room, "did you at least finish the tasks I gave you?" as he asked this, he uncorked the wine and took a sip directly from the flask, sitting down on the old (and Alphonse was sure moldy) sofa, one of the few pieces of furniture they owned.
"I-I-eh…" he didn't meet his grandfather's gaze as he spoke, "I need to go do something. See you later gramps!" and with that out of the way, he bolted before his grandfather would manage to get up from the sofa again.
Alphonse hasty footsteps echoed through the sewers as he ran, trying to get as far away from home as possible. He knew he would have to go home later anyway and take whatever shit his grandfather would give him… but for now he wished to avoid it.
The blonde rat tripped almost trice (he actually tripped twice, but managed to steady himself in time the third time around) before he reached Gabriel's living quarters, huffing and panting for air in exhaustion. He knocked on the wooden door with the back of his hand twice, taping his food impatiently as he hoped for his friend to be home.