like the throngs milling about in the streets around her, she always appears as a cartoon. you recognize her from a paranormal wiki; you're on her classic turf, countless not-windows shining a pure, eye-searing white against the pitch black of everything else, even the walls of the towering not-buildings. are there any doors? impossible to tell. no one seems to go in or out, and to reach out and try pushing the windows, the thought never occurs to anyone while they're there.

you step toward her and she puffs her cigarette, then shoos you off before the world fades to black. she has a portent to deliver, but it's not for you - not today, at least.