“I need to confirm your identities, sir.” Handy just glared at him then looked around, seeing the steadily growing queue of increasingly nervous-looking passengers looking to leave the platform. They gave a healthy amount of space to Handy and his friends, because they, unlike this clown, knew who he was despite all allusions to his being dead. Handy tsk’d, took off his helmet, and glared at the unfortunate griffon.