Staring down at the drink, he paid little mind to her demand for payment or answer... tipping his head back to expose a throat of discolored 'yellow' tissue as he opened his beakish maw, then extended a pair of semi-opposable mandibles, and tipped back a good portion of the mug... Clicking a thick, turtle like tongue against the roof of his mouth, he turned, glaring... Cracks starting to spiderweb across the container with the force he applied.<span style="color: #660033">"Torthose, this is not..."</span>The deep space horror half growled, have buzzed.<br/><br/>Abruptly, his head canted, the chitinous nature of his face making expression impossible, though the prongs on his back flared, then vibrated briefly.<span style="color: #660033">"Zebian, one and only... Master race of universe... Greatest warriors between stars... Weckers of people's shit, we are... Cleckus, they call me..." </span><span style="color: #000000">Looking down at his drink, then took another swig, staring back at her. </span><span style="color: #660033">"For torthose, will only pay..."</span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>