"Simply put, the way the sparking didn't happen now, is evidence that something was up with it the first time."

And what happens, if she repeats this without iron filings?

Little bit of crackling. Nothing exciting.

"...See?  It's still not supposed to do that!"

"What is it supposed to do?"

"So I never did get around to explaining resistivity properly, but - under precisely no circumstances should there be intra-coil discharge, on account of how it's so much easier for the electrons to flow through the copper, like water in a pipe, and there's not any interruptions in the connection either."

"What would you have expected to observe, then?"

"This bit I set up in a way that should've been conducive to electrical discharges, if things work like I think they do.

"...And even if the electrical discharge was supposed to happen - There should not have been such variability.  I dropped the magnet from the same height; it should have produced the same results."

"Perhaps your manufacturing simply has greater precision than we have achieved; while the results of the same actions are often similar, we find that ordering effects and subtle variability are rather common."

"...No.  Same action, same result.  That's not even physics it's math!"

"I hear mathematics does indeed work like that, although it's never been directly my field of study. For everything else, well, things go awry."

That definitely sounds like some kind of standard aphorism at the end there.

"Oh, sure, anything that can go wrong will go wrong, but -

"You can't get more energy out of a system than you have in it!  And yet!"  Dramatically-timed magnet drop!

Such flair! Such pizazz! A big fat zap obediently issues from the discharge point. There is now another scorch mark on the ceiling rafters, although it is slightly hard to make that out amongst all the others.

"Like magic!"

...She turns to face the apparatus properly again, and thusly observes the scorch mark.

"...Oh, bloody hell, we're operating on Spark rules?  I don't know how you've gotten this far!"

"I continue to have very little idea what you are talking about. We have got this far through diligent Wisdom and Vigilance, and no little Prosperity on the part of the Provost."

"Unfortunately memes are the DNA of the soul, and I may or may not be a creature entirely composed of such!"

Beat.

"Which is to say, I'm steeped in the culture and ideas of things even my homeworld would consider vaguely niche; just - ask me to explain, it's what I'm here for.  ...Or at least I'm choosing to believe that; it's not like I know.

"Anyway!  Sparks.  With a capital S.  They put the exclamation points in," she does a voice, and cues the lightning, "!!SCIENCE!!!!!, and reality and its piddly little rules bend to their will, because they're just a little bit mad!"  And, honestly, so is she, with the way this world is.  It's kind of terrifying.  But she carries on, with an aside sweeping her own terror-mania beneath the rug:

"Which is to say, completely fucking bugnuts, ninety percent of the time.

"They're not a real Earthly thing - but they're a semi-prominent archetype of mad scientist in our fiction.  And there's rules to how they work - or more like guidelines."  This is also clearly a reference to something.  "And the biggest thing about them, is that they're just a little bit creatures of narrative, as much as they are only creatures found in a narrative.

"Notice the difference between the stories you could tell of these experiments.  And, while I think I already know that our divinations won't find anything - think about the stories this world is telling you, with how and why the lightning fails and succeeds.

"It wants something, and if we seek to advance scientific knowledge, we must find it.

"I wasn't expecting my encyclopedic knowledge of literary tropes to be so useful as my kenning of the sciences, but I think I've found a good little niche to settle in, to help you shape the world.  How's that sound?"

"...yes, if you call the attention of the stars, this is the kind of thing that does start happening.

I suppose we are here now, so we may as well make the best of it."

"...No, no, no.  Absolutely not.  Not like this, this is entirely narratively flat.  I mean yes, you may as well - but the thing is, you need to commit to it.  You need to feel it in your bones.  Like it's inevitable.  Because it is.  You might not have sought the stars' attention, but it's been on you all your life, for as long as you've had one.  ...I'm not going to even start about world-of-fiction multiverse theory or the simulation hypothesis, though.  Let alone Last-Tuesdayism.  That's too many earth-shattering revelations for one day and I've been having a very long one.  I think I need a nap.  And you should sleep!  Probably!  I don't know what your schedule's like, actually, are you just - on a permanent night shift?  But if you're up as late as I was, hypothetically...  We both need to get some fucking sleep.  Pardon my language."

"I really think you should talk to Elena.

And most likely the Provost, at this rate.

If you wish to avoid having to extensively explain yourself at this late hour, you could take the bed here and I could return with breakfast and some of the others at a more civilised juncture?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea.  I'm honestly rather a night owl - or at least a late afternoon cat - but I could definitely do with some rest.  ...I don't want to put you out, though."

"No, no, I'd want to be in place to rally the troops on this anyhow. Assuming you are not going to mysteriously disappear in the night, but I don't suppose either of us have a way to determine that one way or the other, and at least I can show them the interactions with the lodestone if you do."

"Indeed you can!"  She grins.  "So I've definitely accomplished something other than yelling at the world for being annoying and changing the rules out from under me.  If that's all I get, I think I can take it.  ...You'd probably best get around to rallying the troops, so...  I wish you good luck in that endeavor - and good skill.  And I think I haven't given my name yet, so - you can call me Alicia Nye."

"Leonardo von Temeschwar, of the College of Engineering, Department of Experimentalists."

He essays a moderate bow. "There are some pretzels in the third drawer down if you get peckish, the well out the back does usually function, chamber pot is under the bed, I'll arrange a servant to come by tomorrow so don't worry about dragging it out to the sump."

Chaaaaamber....pot.

"...oh dear, you don't have indoor plumbing.  I don't know why I'd have thought otherwise...Well.  Magic existing might have been a factor, but I hardly have any idea what it does, in practice..."

"We have indoor plumbing in the College! Just not out here in the hills yet, I'm afraid."

"Oh, that makes sense," she murmurs in faint, distracted response.  "Can't wait to get back to civilization, then."

...there was something else - ah, shit, bowing!  Etiquette!  She visibly starts, and sort of gets stunlocked between a bow and a curtsey and a handshake for a moment.  "Oh, and - Um.  Please don't stand on ceremony on my account.  America, the United States - my home country, it basically doesn't have formality to speak of, unless you're a lawyer - or I suppose a big-money businessperson, though I'd argue the point - and I'm neither of those things.  Oh and I suppose there's priests and such, but - well.  I'm not religious - anymore at least, because if the sort of monotheistic god whose faith I was raised in exists, he's a dick - and the government constitutionally sha'n't meddle with things like that.  So even if it existed I wouldn't know, let alone feel like I should receive it.  ...It's rather a point of pride that we don't have the hereditary nobility that generates fancy etiquette."