Still, the office’s abilities were more than a little odd and disconcerting. Did it have a mind of its own? And, if it did, what did that mean for the humans (and Guarden gnome) living inside of it?
Unfortunately, J was having no luck finding anything about semi-sentient dwellings. There were tons of instances of spelled residences, but nothing she’d found matched what they’d observed within the Agency. One off-hand mention of wanting a library had resulted in this room suddenly appearing off the main hallway. The room was helpfully appointed with floor to ceiling bookshelves in some kind of dark wood. Rolling library ladders were attached to the top of each section. Sconces and recessed lighting gave the room a mellow glow. The floor was covered in carpet so thick it didn’t just deaden sound, it interred it.
J was pretty sure she only had to ask for a fireplace and one would appear before she even finished her sentence. That made her uneasy. She was the type of person who enjoyed living life prepared for every eventuality. Since running Discreet Demolitions Detective Agency was now a large part of said life, being blindsided by a rampaging, sentient building was not high on her To Do list.
She had gotten up from the large desk that faced the door to collect another book from her massive collection when T finally spoke. She sounded like she’d been ingesting gravel for the past three days. Clearly, T wasn’t what anyone would call a morning person.
J’s only response was to raise an eyebrow at her. Rather than wither under J’s gaze—something T seemed impervious to—the redhead glared back. “Oh, come on. We’ve been hanging around here for almost a week with nothing to do! There are no cases, the Underworld Balance Magistrate hasn’t called once, and if I have to sit around here one more day watching the paint peel off the walls—ˮ At T’s words, the walls in the library began to shed their paint in long ribbons—“GAH! No, no! That’s just a figure of speech. You don’t need to be so literal!” The peeling reversed itself, until the walls were once again pristine.
“Is there a point to all of this?” J asked, walking along a row of books with her head tilted to the side. T had a tendency to get very…worked up. About everything. It was only one among a large number of irritating traits the woman possessed.