HE ISN’T THE SOCIAL TYPE. not in the conventional way, at least. he preferred his socialization to be done on the battlefield -- or between him and his partner, but he was hardly the type of person to actively approach people without a reason, or get along well with those he was forced to be in contact with. even undercover, he hardly spoke to the other students, and when he did, his tone usually held a hint of sarcasm he couldn’t be rid of.
that is to say, mercury doesn’t like most people. especially loud ones. especially loud ones he was forced to be in an enclosed space with. otherwise known as his newly appointed ‘roomie’ ( as he had called it, ) who encompasses all of these things. all while looking like an utter fool with chin hair befitting a creepy guy one would find in an alley, likely mugging someone, and a spiky, strange hairstyle resembling a scarecrow.
why does he have a roommate to begin with? he didn’t ask for one. he thought he had the apartment to himself, was even looking forward to it to gather his thoughts and decide his next move, when that purple chinned loudmouth barged into the room. judging from his expression, he was just as confused, but he was much quicker to adapt than mercury was. he was friendly. explained that he GUESSED they were ‘roomies’ based on the circumstances.
it took less than two seconds into their meeting for the assassin to decide he wanted to hurt him. badly.
he’s currently got him lowered to the floor, caught in a headlock just strong enough to keep him in place, but loose enough to grant him the ability to speak. he’s going to give him a chance, but if he doesn’t hear what he wants to, he has no qualms about knocking him unconscious.
❝ okay, roomie, here’s how this is gonna go.
you tell me you’re gonna pack your crap and leave, or we stay like this ‘til the color of your face matches your hair and i toss you out the window. what’s it gonna be? ❞
