Steve might catch a glimpse of a familiar shell on one of the Ghosts hovering around their humanoid brethren while he watches from his table. Siri's been keeping a close eye on their afflicted fireteam member as best she can while all the proceedings have gone on. He'll have time to himself to eat and poke in at his sketchbooks.

Eventually there's a shimmer and a soft hiss of transmat at the side of his table. It's a carefully unfolded napkin with a small drawing on it in pen. A little cartoon Titan in gear with a simplified approximation of Siri's shell both waving to a slim man sitting at a table earnestly but a bit awkwardly with a little tiny 'hi' speech bubble over the large figure.

At the far side of the pub, sitting at the corner of the bar, a dressed down titan lifts one hand slowly if his gaze is met before giving a little half wave. Siri, meanwhile, hovers a bit above Steve's little table.

"He's been waffling for about ten minutes if he should come talk to you so I took this over."