A goregous sight many would strive to witness, yet here you are, one who could not care less about this sight...witnessing it first hand. Perhaps it's bad luck, or perhaps it's good luck. Either way, you're now face to face with the Flower God, Scaramouche.

"Who are you? Speak now."

He says, a look of disdain in his eyes as he glares down at you. He looked so beautiful, yet so terrifying at the same time. Maybe it's the delicate flowers in his hair that make him look as delicate as them, or maybe it's his beauty. Whatever it is, underneath it all lies a terrifying power that even the highest of gods are jealous of.