Well, this monkey didn't have wings, at least. Was screaming about how it wanted to know where someone was, as if I had any idea.

[If there's anything Dixon doesn't look like, it's "connected to wealth". Everything from haircut to stance to accent screams smalltown. He slips his arm through the straps of his shield and leans it down against his thigh on the ground, having gotten fatigued from holding it and now relatively certain Tim's not a threat.

But just because Tim's not an obvious threat doesn't mean Dixon stops watching him. Dixon's thick, but he's at least a little observant; he can tell the kid has some wheels turning as he looks into the horizon. Smart kid.]

Dixon. I just got here, I don't need you giving me the third degree. [Probably a poor choice of words given that half his face is healing from an awful burn, but he doesn't seem to notice it.] The other folks were, ah, gimme a minute. A green space man, a chick from Saturn, a girl with a sword who called herself Saber, some kid with a dragon, some knock-off Superman, and shit, some other girl I didn't see much of. Don't know where they went.