"No," he replied, grinning as he shook his head. "No one really knows who I am here. Not unless they knew me already, but even those I can count on one hand and come up with a couple extra fingers." He pointed in the direction of the bistro and set his steps that way, keeping himself abreast of his friend as they went. In the weeks he had spent at the Nexus, strung between two trips several years apart, he had come to rely on the anonymity he found within its walls and the fact that he could stroll through the gardens or look at the paintings in the gallery without someone knowing exactly who and what he had been seventy years before.

Or, at least, thinking they knew exactly who and what he'd been.

"Thor's somewhere around here," he remarked, "Along with Sif and a couple other Asgardians. I haven't tried out-eating them yet, but I'm pretty sure they could make decent competition."