Clearly so. Jason watched her through the eyes of the hood as she jumped over. The straw vanishing through the slit he had popped open for a second as he took a drink looking up at her from where he sat before nodding.

At the guard he usually wore the uniform but without his helmet to protect his identity but the guns were the same and strapped to his legs the same way they were when he was at work. He reached up when she asked, pushing the face plate up more before speaking with his Jersey accent. "Yeah, but I doubt you've seen me as me." He refused to take a promotion when he first joined wanting to keep himself low key to better protect his vigilante identity. So he gets stuck on the jobs the basic soldiers get.

"I don't come out much here. To many other people. Like you, magical yoyo-girl." How did that even work...