[Scaramouche reflexively tilts back a little when the sword (more like an oversized pin needle, if you ask him) is pointed at him, almost looking offended. His gaze travels down the length of the blade to her face; he knows fear when he sees it. Carefully moving his hand away from the large dagger on his belt, he holds up his hands, palms in front of him in a reluctant gesture of surrender. He doesn't take his luminescent eyes off her.]
no subject
Hey, cool it, all right? I work for Aku.