It made sense now, how everyone would always say that Scaramouche exuded hostility and deceit. It seemed like it came directly from his essence rather than any appearance he could take on, years of pent up emotions and suppressed thoughts from a past he'd never share with anyone. Those indigo eyes always burned with emotion, just as they are now in leveling you with his gaze. He stood with confidence, one only made from forced self-reliance. "Is there something you need?" he growled.