Fortescue nods, getting to her feet. The kitchen is close, luckily. She leaves it up to him if he wants to follow her; either way, she comes back to the parlor with another glass. Most of the kitchen very much reflects the time it was built, but the appliances are something else entirely. Aesthetically, everything screams the forties, but the power and prowess involved are well beyond the age. The radio has a digital screen, and a plug-in option for whatever music device is most popular. On that, the dream seems to have fudged a little.

Then again, she doesn't really own a device like that.

"Yes and no," she said, sitting back down. "Only about ten percent of the population has the capability. We're... chosen, I guess you could say, as cliche as that phrase is. By things not human. We're taught in school that magic manifests in us at random, but that's a load of bollocks. Our abilities manifest before we're teens. It's different for everyone."