Last spark from the ashes

He's not as used to transmats as his counterpart, and the shimmer and hiss makes him pause and blink, bemused. As soon as he sees what it is, though, he breaks into a grin. God, it's just like passing notes in class.

He waves back, and glances up at Siri. "Yeah? I mean, I think he'd better. Sketching is easier from closer up. Hold on a sec."

He has a charcoal pencil, which would only tear up the napkin, so he flips to a page in the back of the book, where a messy row of watercolor swatches indicates he'd been testing colors. A few quick lines later and he tears out the sheet, holding it up for Siri. It's not as tidy as the pen drawing--different medium--but the gesture sketch shows the smaller man with a fishing rod, with which he appears to have hooked the Titan. Siri hovers nearby; he wasn't sure how to make her look longsuffering and resigned, aside from a little cloud beside her as if to indicate a sigh.

'Just get over here' says the text bubble.

"I'm so sorry you have to deal with two of us," he tells her.