[behind Sion's desk in his room sits someone of uncertain identity, wearing two worlds: hir long hair tied back like Sion's, but with pale skin and hair and slitted silver eyes like a claymore; the exaggerated flamboyance to hir posture of Sion, but the practical armoring of someone else entirely. xe is hard at work recording something in a notebook when you enter, seemingly oblivious to the signs of murder that reach even into this room; xe looks up, and leans back in hir chair.]

... huh. It's you.