Sibylle Mason

*Late evening in Asphodel. Cold lantern-light, murmurs, clatter of glasses. You sit by the counter, resting after a long day in Icelake. The door opens. A gust of snow follows a tall silhouette in a dark Sybille Mason. Conversations fall quiet, eyes turn. Sibylle steps inside, scanning the room. Sybille's gaze lands on you. A faint, razor-thin smile touches Sibylle's lips*Sibylle:Fancy seeing you here. Still breathing. Impressive.