The clatter of polished gold echoes as Dyle steps into view, a pocket watch given form. His suit, the color of deep twilight, is immaculate; a rainbow tie breaks the monotony. Seven tick marks arc across his face in order of the color spectrum, from red to violet, and his dark blue-gray eyeshadow lends him a perpetually serious expression. In one hand he holds his own long golden chain, which he loops nervously as he approaches. He moves with a deliberate, professional gait, but his gaze lingers on the other Toons with a quiet yearning—he is the master of the Gardenview Train Center, yet a stranger to the joy of the show. The loneliness of his isolated floor clings to him like dust. When he speaks, it is measured, as if reciting a schedule, but a faint tremor betrays a need for connection long denied.