As a courtesy to those of its occupants who prefer rooms, it does have a modality in which it presents itself that way: a room, with as many chairs as it needs, and a bulletin board, and a vending machine with candy and chips and concepts sold for nothing to anyone with the right prerequisites.
On the bulletin board, if one chooses to perceive it as a bulletin board (and not as a wiki or a flower or an ineffable cloud of information or an eternally malleable clay tablet) people whose only common trait is that they get to come here leave each other notes.
Notes about physics, about magic, about grand sweeps of narrative. Notes from people desperate to fix a never-ending heap of problems, smug about the condition of their homes, curious about the wider omniverse. Signed with names and sigils and "you ought to know who I am". Terse or verbose or nested with as much meaning as interests the reader.
In the vending machine, if one chooses to perceive it as a vending machine (and not a basket or a fruiting tree or a file repository or a crystalline fractal) are many things... and they have notes connecting them to their reviews on the bulletin board.
This one, for instance. She (it's usually, but not invariably, a she) has fairly glowing reviews from most of her previous purchasers. Here is what you need to install her; here are some things that are recommended for best results but optional especially if you just want to use her as a beacon for her other instances; here are some things she comes with as add-ons you can take or leave; here is what she is good for. The reviewers who don't like her are annoyed that theirs was too good at it, if you read between the lines. Well, that and the fact that if your universe is unpleasant enough sometimes these critters figure out how to flip you off and leave before they figure out how to solve all your problems. (There is a tangent thread about alternative solutions to similar problems which come bundled with stronger irrational attachment to their homes, but they have more stringent installation requirements.)
They come in these colors and styles; you will need to compensate for the following standard-issue drawbacks in some way if you require services of them that intersect with those areas of disability; they are only rated for upbringings of the following severity and are less likely to hate you if you stay thoroughly under that limit and less likely to fail at important goals if they are given opportunity to self-educate; if you have a way to generate them as instant adults they can begin work immediately but on the standard trajectory age six is the absolute earliest and teens is customary...
There is a chart (if one chooses to perceive it as a chart) of template interactions that have been tried before, but a lot of the more interesting accessory and companion templates are out-of-network for some visitors. What a pity.
It is not long after that that Mehitabel manages to trip and fall. She's been very careful about not walking too fast - tripping is undignified and painful both - but her luck did not hold and her she is with scrapes on her palm from catching herself capsized on the sidewalk.
...She makes sure no one is looking.
And then she kisses her own hand and tries to make it better.
Mehitabel walks (she does not run) home the rest of the way to tell her mother.
She goes and reviews her notes on battery math. She could sort of feel how much it took out of her to do that. It was just a dab, but she has maybe forty dabs in her right now, and if she drops too close to zero she'll slow down in charging back up. The percentage she can use without having that problem will go up over time, as will how much oomph such a percentage represents, as will - assuming she does notable things and collects attention - her recharge rate. For the time being she'd better be very conservative except for things she may want to do frequently - like healing - where practice can help her get more efficient at it.
...Also: eeeeeeee.
Of course, unless she starts self-injuring, she can't practice all that regularly. And she still has Hebrew lessons and science lessons and especially magic lessons. Horace manages to dig up a spell to fix her clumsiness, but it's very, very complicated and might take a long time to fully master.
That's probably worth front-loading regardless of the time expenditure, unless she'll be able to do it in a week if she first waits two years. Mehitabel hops to.
If she does it now, it will take her most of a year including breaks to work on other magic. If she does it in two years, it will take her a slightly smaller majority of a year. Since this isn't enough of a trade-off to be worth the wait, she can "grow out of her clumsiness" a bit shy of her eighth birthday.
Andrea celebrates by giving her a pair of enchanted skates for her eight birthday. The blades will switch from rollerblades to ice skates to more stable four-wheeled rollerskates at a mental nudge, and they'll do up their laces nice and tight on their own so you don't have to ruin your fingers putting them on. Horace's gift--a gloves, gown and shoes set that will teach you to dance--is similarly thematic.
She skates. She dances. She studies. She does little dabs of miracle, every now and then.
She gets better at magic with impressive speed. Horace is so proud. Andrea is thrilled to have a peer her own--well, not older than her, at any rate. (Frankly a peer her own actual age might have been less interesting--she's fourteen, now, and most of the girls she goes to school with have discovered boys.) For her ninth birthday Mehitabel finally gets books from Horace rather than an enchanted widget--he's been feeling a bit under the weather lately. Andrea makes her a waterbreathing necklace.
Poor Horace. Won't a healing spell fix it?
Anaphiel picks up the phone first. "Hello?" Pause. "Yes, this is her mother." Pause. "...What for?" Pause. "...No, I definitely can. That's not a problem." Pause. "Are you sure?" Pause. "...Alright then. I suppose we'll see you fairly shortly." Her voice gets progressively less happy through the conversation.
"Horace is in the hospital. He had a heart attack. The doctors don't think he's going to last more than a few more days."
"He's not coherent enough to cast anything, Andrea doesn't have anything of the appropriate magnitude condensed and probably doesn't have time to put it together, and her parents aren't magicians for some reason."
"How do you want to do this? I'm not suggesting you shouldn't, but logistics--healing a man on the brink of death in a large hospital is going to attract attention."