extradimensional space

[thaumobabble]

Here is a house.

It is pretty and trim and green-and-cream and really ought not to be able to hold itself up like that, and yet here it is, somehow defying the laws of architecture. It is surrounded by a neatly bordered garden of ornamental and useful plants of all sorts: here vegetables, there herbs, there spell components, there rows of flowers.

There is a sign out front. It says only: Magic. Not, Beware, Magic or Magic Emporium or anything like that. Just: Magic.

Sitting on top of this sign is a cream cat with smoke-dark points of color on each paw, his ears, and his face and tail.

All in all, you could be forgiven for thinking that a witch lives here.

Comments

[thaumobabble]

"I should warn you, according to Cricket I talk in my sleep, feel free to wake me up and make me cast a spell to muffle it if it bothers you," Bella says, stashing her light.

[allthebrightest]

"Will do," Tony assures her.

[thaumobabble]

Bella promptly falls asleep and starts uttering random nouns.

[allthebrightest]

It's kind of adorable.

Zzz.

[thaumobabble]

Bella is up at approximately dawn the next day! She shrugs her robes on and belts and hats and moccasins herself. If the twins aren't up, she will write in her notebook quietly till they are.

[calendarofcrime]

Sherlock pokes her head out of her bedroll almost immediately.

"If you want to watch me get into my armour," she murmurs, crawling out of it, "now is the time."

[thaumobabble]

Specs out of hat and on face! Rapt expression!

[calendarofcrime]

The compact, slightly spiky package made by the armour in its resting state is nearby.

Sherlock picks it up and gives it a twist, fitting her hands into the depressions that appear when she does so. It unfolds itself up her arms, wraps around her torso, and clicks and shakes and rattles into place; she hardly has to move except to step into the boots. From the moment she picks it up to the last quiet click is maybe three-quarters of a minute all told.

[thaumobabble]

"Ah, that's artistry," breathes Bella.

[calendarofcrime]

"That," says Sherlock, with evident satisfaction, "is Tony for you."

[thaumobabble]

"I'll have to compliment her effusively. Beautiful, beautiful - not just the magic but the mechanics and the way they interact - how late is she likely to sleep?"

[allthebrightest]

"Effusive praise is my favourite thing to wake up to," says a cheerful mumble from Tony's bedroll.

[thaumobabble]

Bella giggles. "It's gorgeous work," she says. "Probably the prettiest predominantly-dwarf spell I've ever seen - usually they go for blocky functionality but sometimes they don't and it's still the prettiest."

[allthebrightest]

Tony yawns.

"I like pretty," she says smugly. "When I can do pretty, I do."

[thaumobabble]

"Good for you!"

[allthebrightest]

She beams.

"Best morning," she announces.

[thaumobabble]

Bella laughs, and she reaches into her sleeve for some nibbles to breakfast on. "Always happy to dispense credit where it's due."

[allthebrightest]

"Sherry, make breakfast," Tony says sleepily.

[calendarofcrime]

"Happily."

[thaumobabble]

"Ooh, what are you cooking? I'm pretty helpless without my magic kitchen, myself, I always just pack enough when I'm on a trip."

[calendarofcrime]

"Let's see," says Sherlock.

She produces breakfast. It is delicious.

[thaumobabble]

Bella doesn't solicit any - she has her own and doesn't know how long they're packed for. Then she rolls up her bedroll until it fits back in her sleeve and tucks it away.

[calendarofcrime]

"Handy," comments Sherlock. Hers and Tony's both fold up considerably smaller than they look like they should, but there is no magic involved, just efficient design.

[thaumobabble]

"Well, your bag will do it now too," says Bella, smiling and hauling herself up to her feet with the clever use of a tree.

[allthebrightest]

"Yeah," says Tony, "but we didn't overpack for the trip, so we still have only as much stuff as it'd physically hold."