"Then let's just get you properly introduced to Lurch and then you girls can amuse yourselves until the boys come home," she says, standing up and stepping out into the hall. The tall servant from earlier follows her back into the room.

"Lurch, this is Miranda. She'll be staying with us this week while we decide whether to welcome her into the family."

Lurch nods gravely to Miranda.

"Miranda, this is Lurch, our butler. Please don't hesitate to ask him for help if you're lost or in need of anything. He's a man of few words, but he always gets the job done."

"Pleased to meet you, Lurch."

Oh dear, he is a butler, this is the kind of house where there's a butler, she doesn't know how to behave in this circumstance and is quite certain she never has known. (Also is Lurch his first name or his last name or his only name and did he pick it himself or inherit it, but that's a complete side issue.)

His grave face lightens slightly, though certainly not all the way to a smile, and he says in a deep slow voice, "You as well, miss." Then, with another respectful nod to the assembled ladies, he departs.

Okay, that was less than maximally awkward, good job everyone.

"Incidentally, Wednesday mentioned the house containing deadly traps. If that was meant literally, would either of you mind explaining how to safely get to and use a bathroom?" 

"I said I couldn't guarantee that there aren't any."

"I'll look over the house thoroughly this afternoon so I can certify it safe to wander. In the meantime, there's one just down the hall that should be all right. Just a moment while I check and make sure." She steps out again.

"Ah, yes, that's an important distinction," she says to Wednesday with a smile. "Have there been deadly traps in the house at any point in the recent past?" If she in fact builds traps in her house as a hobby that's cool as heck; if she simply quips about them that's valid too.

"I went through a phase last year. I think we've probably gotten them all by now. But Mother's right that it's worth checking, just on the off chance."

"I'm almost sorry I missed that. It sounds like a fun way to learn mechanical engineering."

"Would you like to help me build a steam-powered guillotine to behead my dolls with?"

"You bet I would!" Wow, imagine if she had landed among normal people and had to pretend to be six and go to grade school and shit. But she didn't, she landed here and she's gonna learn stuff.

"I was thinking of making that my next project."

Morticia steps back into the room. "I am happy to report the nearest bathroom clear of mortal hazards. Shall I show you to it?"

"That'd be great, thanks." And then they can design a steam-powered guillotine!

The bathroom proves to be just down the hall, and just what you'd expect from this household. There's black marble tiles, and a claw-footed bathtub enshrouded in black curtains, and the knobs on the faucets are shaped like little black skulls. Morticia leaves her to it with a promise that it will also be safe to walk back to the computer room when she's done.

Then she will return to the computer room in a few minutes. (This place is so aesthetic. She should definitely acquire some black hand-me-downs; it's not the sort of place that's improved by a single contrasting note so while she's here she'd rather harmonize.)

Wednesday has gotten out a sketchbook from somewhere and is drawing possible steam guillotine designs.

"Nice. So, is the plan to have the blade go faster than you can get with just gravity or reload itself or both? Also what kind of tools and materials do you have; is there a wood shop in your basement or similar?"

"There's a workshop on the ground floor, near the back of the house. The basement is mostly dungeons. I'm not sure if we have all the materials already, but we can at least start prototyping. Here—" She displays her plans, beautifully sketched and tidily labelled. There is indeed a mechanism for propelling the blade down and another mechanism for pulling it back up, at least in her most recent drawing; the first few thumbnail sketches are less elaborate.

Miranda has intelligent questions about pressure vessels and sensible suggestions about pistons and is very clearly conceiving of her goal here as "Help Wednesday execute on her vision, while learning things." This is so much fun.

Wednesday is pleased to have help executing on her vision! She develops a few more sketches with Miranda's assistance. Probably the most sensible option is to prototype the mechanisms individually, then assemble the complete system once they've got all the pieces working... would Miranda like to see the workshop? "Though we should probably keep you away from the dangerous parts... there are some things in that workshop even I shouldn't touch. Not until I am older and wiser and can reattach lost fingers."

"Arbitrary fingers, or just your own? Very cool either way. Also I have used power tools before but not with these tiny hands, so yeah, I'll hold off." 

"My own to start with. Other people's if I get very good at it. Thing—oh, you haven't met Thing. Thing is a severed hand. He's been with the family for ages. He says he'll let me practice stitches on him when I'm a little older."

"A disembodied hand who's a guy? Like the whole guy is one hand? Coooool. . . . Sounds inconvenient but whatever works for him I guess."

Hint of a smile. "You'd be surprised how resourceful a disembodied hand can get. But we help him out when he really has trouble with something. Mother has little spa nights with him where he gives her a neckrub and she puts his favourite lotion on him, it's atrociously sweet."