[There's a glance at that arm a moment, before a smile cracks on his face.]

Hey, you know what, man? That's okay. Knew this guy back in prison--had a metal leg and everyone treated him like a....well, whatever he was. Iron-clad prosthetic? Okay by this guy.

[He jabs a thumb at himself, smiling. Conveniently leaving out how he bartered the guy for said leg. That's a tale for when he's drunk. Or when Rocket's drunk.]

Name's Peter Quill, people call me Star-Lord. Maybe you've heard of me. Savor of Galaxies. Infinity stone stealer-slash-toucher.