now i've freezing hands and bloodless veins.

[anathemic]

WHO: Anathema Device & you
WHERE: A bunch of places
WHEN: Throughout the month
WHAT: Catch-all; one open prompt plus closed starters in the comments. Will match prose/brackets!
WARNINGS: nah

OPEN TO ALL.
Over the course of the month, one might be able to find printouts taped to various lampposts and bus shelters, scattered throughout the Porter cities:

CALLING IMPORTS WITH MAGICAL ABILITIES
FELLOW MAGICAL STUDENTS WANTED FOR TRAINING, SPECIALIZING IN PORTALS, TELEKINESIS, ELEMENTAL MANIPULATION &c.

And there's an address attached in easy segments to rip off, which leads people, if interested, to Small Mediums at Large in Jeopardy. If you stop by, you'll find a small, cluttered Victorian parlour of a psychic's shop. The bell over the door chimes upon entry and Anathema perks up from her seat: a dark-haired woman surveying you over her glasses, with a polite smile and a stack of mouldering books in front of her.

"Need your fortune told, missing items or people scried for, help with a haunting, or something else entirely?"

Comments

[anathemic]

"No," Anathema says stiffly (cat bundled in her arms and still purring like a clanky old radiator, while she hangs on a bit too tight). She's standing in the front doorway like some seething guardian, her clothing rumpled and her hair disheveled from her brief ungraceful tantrum-slash-breakdown on the floor.

She's sizing up this unknown teenager, though. Sal seems to collect an unexpected assortment of people, and this is one of the first times she's getting an unplanned glimpse into it. Her girlfriend's esoteric collection of friends.

"She's— I don't know where she is. Her network ID's deactivated. I think she might have..." Something in the woman's voice cracks, and she bites down on it. Grief making her sound a bit ruder than usual: "Who are you?"