Interfacing with Civilians

Dylan tipped his hat, gripping it carefully between his two foremost claws. He always tipped his hat, because it was usually the only thing he was wearing. Most supers had costumes; Dylan had a hat.

"Howdy, ma'am. Folks." He nodded to the rest of the customers and ducked to squeeze through the entrance. His armor plating squeaked as it rubbed on the doorframe. "Any of y'all see a horrible little monkey-man come running through here, screaming about a 'spacetime inverter'? Oh, he might have been on fire."