The recognition is a mixed bag, but he’ll take it. It means he doesn’t have to introduce himself and do the meeting people in a prolonged crisis dance, but Robbie is aware that it’s infamy that gets him recognized without the fly-eyed demicowl. It could be worse. It could be Moonstone.

“I thought all gods like to shave a few centuries off their age. 3000 years old, looks 30 in a mirror selfie. 20 if he’s a swan.” Robbie’s pretty sure that one wasn’t Hercules, but high school was years ago. He’s let the knowledge lapse because, well, the odds of teaming up with OG Original Greek have only gotten slimmer with age.

So, he’s reduced to swan jokes. It’s probably a sign that it’s time to be serious. “Are the Avengers here? As in, by choice and not by rabbit hole?”