What the hell? He wanted to test out the private shower and what good was testing out the fucking thing alone? Yet his co tester seemed to have vanished, so he got scent of him and had trailed him to the coffee house. Didn't he get enough of this place when he worked? He sneered at the thought as he crept quietly in, trying on purpose not to make noise because he wanted to see what Victor was up to. Not that he didn't trust the lizard man but he just wanted to see what he did when he wasn't around because he was curious..
So he crept in the door and leaned his tall, slender body up against a wall, eyes falling on the little scene that was happening in the building. His brows shot up, sighting a pink haired chick with wings. What the fuck, was it tinklerbell (or was it tinkerbell? oh hell, he didn't care either way) on mushrooms or something? What he did care about was that Victor had his arms around the creature, whatever the hell it was. He had no idea there could be mutants that looked like little fairies, but apparently he was proved wrong here. His eyes narrowed slightly, he giving a kind of sniff/snort now.
"Th' hell's goin on here, is this yer faerie..godsister or somethin?" Looked too young to be a godmother, he decided. His voice was deep, gruff and a little growlike, perhaps enough to make one aware that he did not care for what he saw, not at all.
The one speaking was over six feet tall easy, with a build that looked like he didn't get enough to eat, it was past slender to the bony, scrawny point, really. His skin was very, very pale and he had midnight black hair. It looked to be a bit on the greasy side, but to his merit he HAD been planning on washing it tonight. It hung limply past his shoulders, free. He was wearing a pair of black jeans that looked like they might fall down at any time, they looked a couple sizes too large for him, which might explain the black suspenders decorated with lime green skulls that held up his pants, no shirt on underneath, so one could easily see that his ribs were visible, and that pale chest looked as though it had many scars of many different shapes and sizes.
The clerk gave the tall man a dirty look, perhaps because he didn't have a shirt on which was a bit frowned upon as the usual rules were 'no shirt, no shoes, no service'. He did have shoes on, big heavy duty boots with lime green laces. "Oh, cool yer fuckin' jets, I don't want anythin' to drink, I was jus' lookin for someone, but it seems I found him." He growled to the clerk who quickly left him alone. One would also be able to see both of his arms which was mostly covered in many different tats, they ranging from strange to downright morbid and different degrees inbetween.