"Warlock," Magnus offers absently as the suit says hello. That's interesting. If this new acquaintance didn't seem so unacquainted with magic, he'd put that down to some sort of Seelie possession. It's the sort of magic they enjoy. But if it's science-based, he has no idea how it works, it's marvelous.

"I've run into things like wishing wells," he continues, turning back to the man, presumably the principal of the two. "Locational magics have the most potency in a particular place, and their effectiveness decreases as they get farther away from that place. If this were a normal pond, and you'd hit bottom, I'd assume some artifact or other was leaching magic into the water, a contaminant of sorts, which means—" he holds up the flask he'd taken "—water taken from the well would have the same magical properties no matter where in the world it was, but there's apparently no bottom for a ridiculous amount of depth." Magnus looks suspiciously over his shoulder at the pool and turns back to face Tony again. "That's a sign, this pool is clearly inherently magical and therefore locational. Which means it probably won't make much of a base for potions after all. That's disappointing. I'm Magnus, by the way, Magnus Bane." He holds out a hand, manicured nails painted the same deep cobalt as the streaks in his hair.