His reputation? Lorcan winced. Things weren't that bad, were they? Yeah, his brother and sisters liked to tease about the necro thing, but people knew that was just sibling antics, surely. His own mother ran this restaurant they all loved so much. They had to realize he wasn't... "I'm not going to steal someone's table," he snapped, maybe a bit harsher than he meant. "I'll ask." With that, he strode towards the table Greg had pointed to, purposeful. Determined. Not angry. Not scary. He wasn't. He cleared his throat, settling his hands on an empty chair at the table. Its occupants turned to look at him. "Are you done with this table?" he asked. "My associates and I need it for a working." He finished with a brief smile. There. See? Polite. - Back at the counter, Vulk tapped Greg's arm with the prongs of his power outlet. "You shouldn't have asked that," he said, voice soft for once. "Lorcan doesn't always know how he feels when people get scared of him. But that's his sad face right there. He's sad."