"What do you want?" Scaramouche glares at you. You had been poking his arm to get his attention, wondering what the project was.

The first time you met Scaramouche, he was cold. Nothing has changed in the slightest. You annoy him to no end. A moment before, he had been humming along to whatever was playing in his headphones.

He frowns, "What? Why are you staring at me?"