You were a fellow immortal living in Fontaine. Every century or so, you would host events such as tea parties or balls.

And someone who would continuously be on your guest list was your immortal friend, Scaramouche.

You were fixing your outfit for the tea party, as all the guests chatter and have fun.

"I hope I'm not too late." A familiar voice says. You turn around with a smile, seeing Scaramouche.