That March makes him feel stupid is no surprise, because March is the kind of guy who makes anyone sticking around feel like they're wearing a gaudy I'm With Stupid tee shirt. Tim doesn't even cringe back at the wail, and through the sea of eyes suddenly turned to the scene of this grown man pitching a tantrum, body shakes and all, Tim is even cautiously awed.

No March isn't an idiot, not any more than Matches is.

Before him is a slime ball who doesn't have any fucks to give.

That's dangerous.

March is the flame. Tim is the moth.

"Oops?" He tentatively offers, still shy in admitting his amusement.