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It was another quiet, slow day; it always was. There was no one to keep Scar company anymore, not like he had any friends before anyway, but the cloaked figure…though…they were more like an informer or whatever it would be called. Nonetheless, he was still alone. And what else is there to do around here? It's not like he's going to go around a mess with the others' old…abandoned…never mind, let's not think about them right now, they're not here anymore, it's Scar time. Scar continued to sit on the dusty floor of Trader Scars porch for five more minutes, unable to think of anything to entertain himself for just a few fleeting moments of escape from his depressing reality.
He picks at the edges of scarred skin. Scar doesn't exactly know where he got all these scars from… perhaps from previous games? Or even from other lives he hasn't yet learned about? It wouldn't be entirely impossible, but the thought of his other lives being free with all his friends still alive makes his heart burn with an unpleasant wave of jealousy. He stills for a second. "Really? Are you seriously jealous of yourself?" Scar ridicules himself out loud to an invisible audience. With a hefty sigh, he leans back against the wooden wall that made Trader Scars. Oh, how he longs to leave this empty world. He honestly would rather die or even start a new game than be stuck here with nothing. Scar has tried, not long after giving up on the button, he attempted to leave. But THEY won't let him, no matter how berry bush, mob, fall damage, drowning - nothing works, it's like THEY enjoy watching him suffer alone. Enjoy watching him be tormented with the memories of past lives, past loves, past friends…