As a courtesy to those of its occupants who prefer rooms, it does have a modality in which it presents itself that way: a room, with as many chairs as it needs, and a bulletin board, and a vending machine with candy and chips and concepts sold for nothing to anyone with the right prerequisites.
On the bulletin board, if one chooses to perceive it as a bulletin board (and not as a wiki or a flower or an ineffable cloud of information or an eternally malleable clay tablet) people whose only common trait is that they get to come here leave each other notes.
Notes about physics, about magic, about grand sweeps of narrative. Notes from people desperate to fix a never-ending heap of problems, smug about the condition of their homes, curious about the wider omniverse. Signed with names and sigils and "you ought to know who I am". Terse or verbose or nested with as much meaning as interests the reader.
In the vending machine, if one chooses to perceive it as a vending machine (and not a basket or a fruiting tree or a file repository or a crystalline fractal) are many things... and they have notes connecting them to their reviews on the bulletin board.
This one, for instance. She (it's usually, but not invariably, a she) has fairly glowing reviews from most of her previous purchasers. Here is what you need to install her; here are some things that are recommended for best results but optional especially if you just want to use her as a beacon for her other instances; here are some things she comes with as add-ons you can take or leave; here is what she is good for. The reviewers who don't like her are annoyed that theirs was too good at it, if you read between the lines. Well, that and the fact that if your universe is unpleasant enough sometimes these critters figure out how to flip you off and leave before they figure out how to solve all your problems. (There is a tangent thread about alternative solutions to similar problems which come bundled with stronger irrational attachment to their homes, but they have more stringent installation requirements.)
They come in these colors and styles; you will need to compensate for the following standard-issue drawbacks in some way if you require services of them that intersect with those areas of disability; they are only rated for upbringings of the following severity and are less likely to hate you if you stay thoroughly under that limit and less likely to fail at important goals if they are given opportunity to self-educate; if you have a way to generate them as instant adults they can begin work immediately but on the standard trajectory age six is the absolute earliest and teens is customary...
There is a chart (if one chooses to perceive it as a chart) of template interactions that have been tried before, but a lot of the more interesting accessory and companion templates are out-of-network for some visitors. What a pity.
"I will see if anyone knows who in particular it would be good to meet in Fairyland. Probably at the same time as I'm asking around about a magic teacher."
"Thanks!" Pause. "I also want to know more things about demons and souls and Heaven and Hell and vampires and stuff like that." Pause. "Also is it a secret that you are an angel, not just a secret that I'm a Jesus?"
"Angels aren't well-known to be specifically real in the same way that vampires or demons or fairies are known to be real, by people who know that kind of thing, which isn't all of them, because angels come to Earth less than demons and fairies do, because there is a small but not quite negligible chance that someone could intercept the transport and use it to jeopardize souls who have died in the last few seconds and are in the process of ascending to heaven. It would be very attention-getting to be revealed as an angel, but it's not specifically a secret. I'm not going to tell people just because but if there's a reason to I will."
"Thank you. Soooo...I think we've got enough space in the living room to draw some diagrams on the floor in chalk, and that's the most area-prohibitive step in magic, at least at the early levels. I think I've got a coherent sketch of a lesson plan worked out, although of course you should let me know if I'm going to slow or too quickly in any area. Magic lesson?"
Magic lesson. Magic comes in rituals, and rituals can be abridged through sufficient practice and association into words and gestures. Anaphiel recommends going heavy on the words and light on the gestures with the exception of spells she anticipates needing to cast while unable to speak; words can be written down with much more precision than gestures. And this ritual is apparently a good place to start; it's not too difficult and most of its components are common to a variety of useful spells.
This one generates a number of glowing lights (three, by default, but if you replace this numerical component with another one you can change that) that will move around and slowly change color in response to the caster's intentions.
Oooooooh. That sounds like fun to play with and good practice for controlling things with intention! Mehitabel wants to cast it.
Anaphiel has the steps for the various components written down for her, and will correct her if she draws a line wrong, but it's important that she do all the steps herself in order to condense them into a more manageable form later. But it's simple as spell-rituals go; even in its completely unabridged form it only takes about an hour.
Mehitabel spends the entire hour enthralled and diligent and detail-oriented, especially for a six-year-old.
"You'll want to do this several more times before you actually start compressing the components, but it will be easier in the long run if you start thinking about what you want to compress it to now."
"Okay..." says Mehitabel, looking at her lights. She makes them spin in a circle together, and then go red and green and gold, and then turns them into a halo for herself. "And it's got to be something I wouldn't ever just say. So not 'three lights'."
"Making up nonsense words that can be easily written phonetically seems to be traditional."
"They shouldn't be total nonsense though or they'll be easy to mix up." Mehitabel considers this, then says, "I'll think of a way to pronounce my cipher!"
Mehitabel, haloed by lights which change color and occasionally spin or come to rest in her hands or approach mirrors so she can see what happens when they do that, comes up with a system by which to pronounce her cipher so that most English words thus transformed will result in pronounceable but non-word results. She translates "triple lights" instead of "three lights" because the "thr" combination doesn't come through very well, but it will still be hard to confuse for any other spell.
Yes. She will delightedly work on that now that she knows what she wants to squish them down to.
She can probably get each individual component reduced to a gesture or a word before bed, with a break to eat something for dinner, but not any sequences.
Tomorrow morning Anna asks her if she minds being left alone for most of the day (having long since determined to her satisfaction that the house was still going to be intact when she got home if she left Mehitabel by herself) to work on her spell while Anna runs errands like trying to find her a proper magic teacher.
"Leftover mashed potatoes and chicken are in the tupperware with the blue lid, leftover tomato soup's in the tupperware with the red lid, and you know where the cold cuts and bread and so on are." She pecks her on the top of the head. "Have a good day, then."