S I Fangdscom __top__ Jun 2026

Madame Fang nodded, a flicker of something like sympathy crossing her features. She opened the ledger to a blank page. She didn't use a pen; instead, she pressed her finger to the paper. A wisp of silver smoke rose from Elias’s temple, drifting across the counter and soaking into the page. The ink formed a date and a brief description: A cake with blue icing. A door slamming.

Or, as the owner preferred to call it: "The Lost and Found for things that shouldn't exist." s i fangdscom