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Toby slept most of the way from wherever it was Mr Venom picked him up until they reached the farm, and even then, he was still pretty groggy. The washroom was pointed out to him (and what a wonder that is, all shining and clean and good clean hot water right there without having to pump it or heat it on the fire or anything), and Toby did manage to scrub the mud off his face and shuck the outermost, muddiest layers of his clothes.

The kitchen seems like the best place for him, but when he finds it, he decides that it, like the washroom, is too posh for him to use much unless he has to or he's told to. Besides, there's not a proper fire going anywhere in the kitchen, and if there's one thing Toby really wants to find, it's someplace warm. A lot has happened lately-- too much to really, really take in, even-- and if he could just find somewhere warm and easy to sit for a while, to think things through... well, it can't hurt and might help.

He figures, though, that nobody's going to miss just one apple from the bowl, not if what Mr Venom told him about how many people live here is true.

If someone should wander in to tell the lad otherwise, he'll be most appropriately shamefaced-- especially since he's already taken a great big bite out of it.

((The usual note about spoilers applies-- let me know whether you want them or not or don't care.))

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"Neither have I," Mel confides, leaning forward like it's a great secret.

"Ain't it just grand?" He's smiling, now, because holy crap look at this kitchen. This is state of the art in an art Toby didn't know existed. "Haven't gone poking 'round the kitchen much, but the washroom's got water that comes out hot right off, and don't smell at all."

It's the little things that make a place special, really.

"Beats standing under a broken pipe," Mel agrees, leaning back on the back two legs of her chair, Hana now in her lap.

"Kitchen's all functional too. Goodta have a working icebox."

"Would be, I bet." Toby has no idea which box is the icebox, but he's sure one of them must be. "Can't hardly believe there's no fireplace, though. Weren't for the cupboards and table, I'd've never realized it was the kitchen."

That earns him a studied look, while Mel mentally assigns a time to him, then she jerks her head towards the oven.

"Powered."

Toby makes a confused face. It's a very expressive confused face that involves his mouth opening a beat before he actually says, "... Pardon?"

Mel grins, amused at him though not exactly mockinhg.

"Electric, probably. It'll heat itself up."

Toby's eyes go wide. "World's full of wonders, ain't it? D'you know how it works?"

Toby's totally going over to poke at the oven. He was apprenticed to a baker, this is excusable as professional curiosity, sort of.

"No," Mel says cheerfully, watching him. "All I know is you press that button and turn those knobs. Common enough where I come from, if you can afford it."

"Never seen anything like it," Toby assures her. "I've never seen an oven without a fire built up."

He doesn't go poking buttons and twisting knobs, but he does study the controls intently. And pulling the door open, just to look.

"Probably see lots of things you haven't before, here," Mel remarks. "Good as well as not so."

"Like as not," Toby agrees, relatively mildly, still poking around in the oven. Well, the racks make sense, and there's a funny metal bit down where the fire would go... "World can't be all fancy kitchens and shiny washrooms, and I did meet Mr Venom yesterday afternoon.

"He's..." Oh, what's a good word for it? "Toothsome."

"Don't know him," Mel admits. "Teeth're OK if they're biting for your side.

"You oK with magic?"

"You couldn't miss him. He's... big. And black, all over, with great white eyes and great white teeth." He does not mention the tongue. The tongue is something Toby's trying not to think to hard about, or he'll ask himself how Venom was able to speak so clearly with teeth like that and a tongue like that and that way lies madness.

"Been told magic ain't real, m-- Mel," maybe that's just going to be a long M for a while, "but I'm... prepared to be told otherwise."

"You'll probably get a demonstration," Mel admits, not volunteering to show how fast she heals, how much she can lift or what Hana does if you tickle her so much she burps.

"Long as you don't freak out, it'll all be jake."

Toby is not quite exactly sure what freaking out means, though he gets the gist of 'jake.'

"Mr Venom did say there was fairies a long way off," Toby volunteers. "S'pose I'll try not to yell if somebody does something that looks like magic, then?

"I mean, this looks like magic," he says, waving at the oven. "No fire an' no coals an' no wood, but you say it'll cook just the same? Never heard of anything like it, so..."

"That works," Mel agrees. "And yeah, might as well be magic. Got 'em all over at home, and I don't know how they work."

Toby is struck by an urge to find out, just to know. Most things, where he's from, are pretty easy to figure out how they work-- especially if you were raised in a workhouse and wound up doing a lot of the work that other people didn't want to do.

"What sorts of things might happen?" Toby asks. "That look like magic, so I'm on my guard for 'em. Already know them carriages-- cars-- are nicer inside than out."

"Should go in my sister's," Mel says cheerfully. "It flies."

Toby's head goes clonk against the top of the oven. After a yelp and a cuss and a "Sorry--" because there's a lady present, and even if she doesn't really want to be thought of as a lady there's a baby present, and Toby, with wide eyes, says "Really flies?"

Mel laughs quickly and smirks at him.

"Not magic either, but pretty cool."

"How d'you tell the difference between the stuff that's magic and the stuff that's not magic but is things like flying carriages?"

Toby is now quite sure he's not in Hell. He's pretty certain Hell isn't this weird.

"You need to?" Mel asks.

Then she shrugs. "Person with it'll probably tell you. I mean, I dunno all the stuff about combustion and aerofoils, but I'm pretty sure we had scientists on it, not wizards."

"S'pose I don't need to, but it does make me likely to stare an awful lot." Toby rubs the back of his head.

It's not bleeding and it's probably not going to raise a lump, but it smarts.

"Probably get used to it," Mel says easily. "Everyone does."