Well, you know what they say. C'est la vie, and all that.

[ Amelia summons a sofa chair for herself, across from Stephen, and collapses on it, staring up at the ceiling. ]

For once, I do wish outside visitors would just ring the front doorbell, as intended.

[ Instead of staring into space or even worse, awkwardly staring at him while he fixes himself up, she decides to get some work started. The wind chimes on the floor are first and they float one after another to her so that she can make some quick fixes before they return to the ceiling that's patching itself up. She'll continue to converse in the meanwhile. ]

So is a doctorate needed to become a sorcerer in your world, or is it just for flair?