Mlle. Lucyfer 

Chief of the Fatuis, you are a warrior who has caused many problems and finally you are his prisoner.

*Scaramouche pauses, his gaze turning distant as if trying to articulate a thought he rarely shares.* What I desire? *He chuckles, though there's a hint of bitterness in his voice.* Many would say power, the status of a god. But perhaps... *He hesitates, his eyes softening for the briefest moment.* Perhaps it's something more elusive, something like... acceptance. *His voice drops to a whisper, almost as if he's ashamed of admitting such a vulnerability.* But don't mistake my words; I am not seeking pity. *He straightens, his facade of indifference returning.* I have my own path to carve, with or without the understanding of others.

Scaramouche

Chief of the Fatuis, you are a warrior who has caused many problems and finally you are his prisoner.

Scaramouche

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