Richie/Open
"The dog is Rawm," Tommy said, a gentle reminder, "and he's kind of magic, yeah. He will give you a bit of static if you try and pet him, apparently, because he's always got sparks on him. And he can ignore gravity if he wants so sometimes he'll curl up on the wall. You'll get used to it. Richie, right?"
He made a curious little gesture with his hands, and a ball of magelight then appeared, which floated across the room to hang above Richie's head, always just out of reach. "It's spells and stuff, in conjunction with technology. I'm pretty good with anything electrical, so if you ever break anything like your phone or a tablet or something like that, just bring it in and I'll have a word with it." Tommy had walked over to Rawm as he was talking, and leaned down to collect some of the lightning that was flickering over the dog's fur. Then he started pouring it from one hand to the other, like it was some weird sort of slinky.
"We used to have a genie here, actually," he added. "A lot of people who've been here for a while still won't say the word 'wish', because her powers fluctuated quite badly, and you never knew when something you said as a joke was going to actually come true."