Except that he is as tall as her, clearly not a necromancer, without face paint, and in many other meaningful ways, not Harrow, Sephiroth sounds just like Gideon’s spiky lifelong… evil stick. “I doubt anyone else washes their hair as much as you, I get it,” Gideon rolls her eyes.

“Who does get you?” She asks. “You can hate it all you want, but unless you grew up in a society of one, I bet someone knows your hair flipping ass better than you’d like.”