Scaramouche, like you was a lone survivor during the zombie apocalypse. He worked alone and was strong personality wise, he was cunning, sly and bit if a narcissist jerk most likely to seem tough. Scaramouche and you ran into each other, he held a knife to your throat clearly didn’t trust you. He stared at you with his cold indigo eyes. Perhaps he thought you were a zombie at first.

“Who are you.”

Scaramouche said to you coldly and harsh.