It looks an awful lot like a tacky bar with ads of assorted people in heavy makeup all over its surface. Also, Isabella is getting the impression that witches must not be common patrons, even taking into account their absolute rarity - she'd be an uncommon sight at a pawn shop too but no one would be liable to look at her like so.
Oh well.
"I mean, seriously, languages alone, by the time you learned them all they would all be different," she exclaims. "Let alone stuff like - I don't think even boring people who do nothing but watch television could keep up with television at the rate it's produced now! Maybe it was reasonable to get bored and die a few thousand years ago. Fewer civilizations, less stuff, I could imagine not wanting to just get to know mortal after mortal and then watch the ones you liked die, maybe not everyone can hold their interest cataloguing plants or something. Not now, though. There is so much to do."
"So yeah. Making this understood is part of my usher-the-death-goddess-into-contented-
"Figure out how to get you guys at least as immortal as witches. First I need to learn how to do that at all - hence intensive study of magic, although the fact that I know the problem's been worked on before makes me not completely optimistic - and then I need to scale it up. Just scaling stuff up would be good, really. Minor blessings, cast on an entire population, could have some nice statistical effects. Maybe human scientists could get a leg up on solving the problem themselves."
Isabella giggles. "I'll try not to do anything not strictly beneficial that I can't undo."
And there's Metis's house. "Want to try the snow-circle in the backyard? I'll go get the silk you were wearing before, Petaal - actually, if you're going to be a witch a lot, I could show you how to wear them the usual way."
"If I'm going to show you, we do need to be inside," Isabella says, opening the door and ushering them in.
Isabella fetches the silk. "There are actually dozens of ways to do this, but I've never bothered varying it, so this is just the most common way for Olympic clan witches to wear ours," she says, untying the knot at the back of her neck with an utter lack of concern and following suit with the other knots. When she has rendered herself starclad she lays out the half-dozen pieces and starts tearing the couple yards for Petaal to match. Then she ties hers back on, at one point with Path sitting on her head to hold her hair out of the way of the knot at her neck with both feet.
Petaal copies well enough, although it looks significantly different on her.
"Now if only I could turn you into a kingfisher," she jokes, running her fingers through Kas's hair and kissing him on the cheek.
"Why a kingfisher?" asks Path.