[ Sufficed to say, the daily circumstances don't have him in a shining mood—Sandalphon is guided vaguely to one of the transport rooms with the equivalent of a juicebox and some bandages, apologized to for the cramped quarters, and left to figure the rest out for himself. There's not much to puzzle together, though: the room is small, and their arrangements smaller. There's probably enough room for two of them if they do their best not to get in each other's way... but his cantankerous roommate cuts cooperation off at the nib. And also seems to be taking up as much surface area as humanly possible.
His response is immediate and plain, not quite so vulgar but just as (un)friendly, tone clipped. ]
g!
His response is immediate and plain, not quite so vulgar but just as (un)friendly, tone clipped. ]
There's no other space.
[ Surely, reason will win out here. ]
Just move over.