Dreamer

Then, when she heard Daphne sighing from her place near the wall, she fell onto her knees next to the circle, reached in, and pushed her bare hand onto the cold ground. Eyes closing, she pushed with all of her will. Her hopes, her dreams, all depended on that one moment.

And then she summoned you.



You float in the Void. In the Darkness where Light doesn’t dwell and where only the things that are In Between lie.

Meaning is a concept that is as transient here as spring gales. Causality is optional. Willpower dictates the flow of the space between spaces.

There is a tug, a pull, a calling from across what Mortals and Organics would only understand as a great, unfathomable distance.

It awakens you.

[Dream's location pre-summoning, existing in eldritch space (yes, the story is in second person)]
- Prologue
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You are vast, larger than any mere mortal could hope to conceive of, and yet the one calling you, your summoner, wants you to squeeze into a form so small as to be insignificant. The little mortal asks for the impossible with a sort of blind faith that, at its base, amuses you.

A twist, a turn, and mass, insofar as you have mass, is compressed. Space is transitory, it does as you wish. With a scream, physics reels from your irreverence to its laws. It batters at what you are doing but that is as easy to ignore as a faint stench.

Between one blink and the next you are an entity of the void no longer.

[Compression pog]
- 1
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You wiggle your limbs and, after a moment of not really moving, decide that your patience for mortal flesh limbs has already reached its end. You reach into the space between spaces for more of yourself and pull a fraction of a fraction of your essence into the mortal coil. There’s a tearing sound, and a splash.

Warmth runs across your back and you see inky black blood pooling out around you.

That’s probably bad. But at least now you are no longer limited to a mere four limbs. Your new limbs sprout out of your back like the wings of an Angel. Though unlike those weaklings your wings are black, and wiggly, and a little bit slimy with your blood. They are also boneless and featherless.

They’re tentacles.

Tentacle wings.

Angels don’t have anything on you.

Now equipped properly, you let yourself go limp as your tentacles spear into the floor and raise you up to your feet.

[Eldritch shapeshifting to grant wings]
- 1
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But all problems have solutions. And the best solutions always involve tentacles. You wrap your fleshy tentacles around the beams of the ceiling, then push off the ground with others until you are suspended in the middle of the room. Your summoner cowers away from your form which is unacceptable. You wrap a tentacle around her waist in a fleshy cuddle of muscle and drag her close.

You are now taller than your summoner, the perfect height to reach out and...

Hand meets head. Tendrils that are only partially in this realm and in this time scour through your summoner’s mind, skipping past boring things until the parts that dictate speech and the knowledge of how to move the flaps on your face to communicate are found.

Ah, you were supposed to use your tongue. That is what the small, inefficient tentacle in your face is for.

Disappointing.

[Learning speech through mind reading (via tentacles)]
- 1
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Shelves tower above you, filled with jars and dishes and strange dried husks of once-living things. There’s not one scent in the air, but millions of them, all mixed together in a way that makes it hard to pin-point which is which. Abigail lets go of your hand to press her palm over a circle carved into one wall.

There’s a... shift, in reality, a tiny nudge. Not a scream as physics is rent, but a sigh as it allows something to happen that shouldn’t be.

The room lights up as curved elements in glass cases, all stuck to the ceiling, start to glow.

[Dream can sense shifts in reality when magic is used]
- 3
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“Abi, it’s not a child!” you hear Daphne hiss.

Oh, yes, you’re supposed to be listening.

It would be hard to listen from all the way across the room like this with your poor excuse for ears, so instead of trying too hard, you focus a little and the room squishes itself. Physics sobs as the ceiling narrows down into a square that’s only a few feet apart while the rest of the room stays the same. You are now only a step away from the room where the girls are talking and you didn’t need to move an inch.

“Daph, I summoned her, Dreamer’s my familiar. I, I should be happy. I am happy! We did it, and she’s obviously magical! Do you know how rare that is?”

[Physics manip to shrink a room]
- 4
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This magic circle thing is very annoying. You could do the light thing without it, but Abigail didn’t need to bend nature to her will to make them turn on, she just pressed this plaque. So you’re missing something, something vital.

[Dreamer can do light magic]
- 4
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“Dreamer?” you hear a call and notice footsteps approaching.

Quick as lightning, you retract your tentacles, let physics take control of the ceiling again and then stuff the bowl in the cracks between this reality and the next. That way you’ll have a snack for later. “Yes?” you ask.

“Ah, there you are,” Abigail says as she finds you rubbing a hand across your mouth to remove some of that lye stuff. “What were you up to?”

[Can store things in the crack between realities]
- 4
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Hopping off the bed, you do your post-nap stretching. Each tentacle reaches out as far as it can until it’s shivering with tension, then pulls back. You’re not sure how to work with mortal limbs yet so you wrap a tentacle around your wrist and pull, and pull and pull. There’s a pop from your shoulder, and then it feels warm.

With a squelch, your arm is torn out of your shoulder and, freed from its mooring, your tentacle swings it around and into the nearest wall with a splat.

You blink at the gushing wound at your side.

Darn, that’s inconvenient.

You pick up your arm, trying to be quiet as to not wake Abigail from her nap, and push it back into place.

It flops to the ground as soon as you let go.

Sighing at the puddle around your feet, you give up on your old arm, a pair of tentacles bringing it to the bin in the kitchen where fruit peels and empty cans of food are stacked. You shove it in the bin for now.

You glare at your missing arm until it grows back, then test your new fingers a few times. All’s well that ends well.

[Strong regeneration, regrowing an arm in a few seconds]
- 6
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There’s hardly any room in Abigail’s tiny home, everything is all cramped together and it’s impossible to move without bumping into things. You decide to fix that.

It’s simple really, there’s a limited amount of room here but the Great Infinity has a lot of space. An infinite amount, actually. So, with tentacles that are both here and not here at the same time, you grab some space and start stuffing it around Abigail’s apartment.

It’s a little messy. The entrance to her bathroom is now bigger than the rest of the apartment, her kitchen counter goes on for quite a ways and one of the legs on the kitchen table plunges into its own shadows, but at least things are bigger.

It’s nice, until you notice that the shadows under the bed are bottomless. That won’t do.

Getting onto your knees, you tuck your head under the bed and gaze into the Abyss.

The Abyss gazes back.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” you ask the Abyss.

The Abyss shrugs a little. “Not really.”

You glare at it. “Well go do nothing elsewhere.”

With a huff, you take some space away from there. It wouldn’t do for Abigail to lose something down there. The Abyss is very rude about giving things back.

You stand up, proud of your hard-ish work and clap your hands onto your bare thighs. Abigail stirs a little, her hair wobbling around in a rat’s nest as she shifts her head. She’s still wearing her glasses, the silly summoner.

Oh well, she’ll wake up in due time.

You head over to the washroom to see if it can be improved too. It takes a few minutes to get there, on account of the distance, but that’s alright.

The bathroom is a little dingy, and could use some scrubbing, but that’s someone else’s job. You put some space in the bottom of the toilet, and more space in the bath until it becomes like a deep ocean , then you use your tentacles to climb up to the vanity.

[Physics bending to massively increase the size of a room to a few hundred metres probably. Making a bathtub have the depth of an ocean, and creating a bottomless abyss beneath a bed before arguing with it]
- 6
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You nod along as you follow her across the shop. Your tentacles drift around you, nudging things in place, resorting shelves, rubbing away smudges from glass jars, tossing yummy things towards you so that you can snap them out of the air with your mouth, dusting off the corners of shelves.

Abigail whips around half a second after you slip a few eel eyes into your mouth. You keep your mouth shut and hope that she doesn’t notice that your cheeks are full. She eyes you, then your tentacles that have just finished with one shelf.

[Lots of tentacles with good control]
- 7
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You start humming, an old song that you had once heard while travelling in the Paths that Lead to Somewhere, just a little ditty that wormed its way into your vast memory.

You stop humming when you notice reality start to turn green. Annoying, that. With a huff, you tell the world to stop playing silly buggers and go back to being normal... or as normal as it was before. You’re here to work as a dutiful shop clerk, not turn the world different colours.

[Changeing the colour of reality]
- 8
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The dust bunnies stand no chance against your valiant charge and are soon dispersing like chaff in the wind to escape your might grasp.

But they did not expect the assault from the tentacle nation!

You split your tentacles into hundreds of teeny tiny tendrils that spear out and catch the defeated dust bunnies unaware. Soon they are dangling at the tips of your tenticular grasp, morale broken and dusty blood leaking out.

So you toss them all onto the dustpan like the corpses of enemies being tossed into a ditch.

[Hundreds of tentacles with enough precision to each stab a piece of flying dust]
- 8
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Now to use the magic circle to disintegrate the pile of dust. The tricksy bit is using the same life essence that Abigail did. You, of course, aren’t mortal, and are therefore not alive enough to have any sort of life juice in you. But there’s plenty of life juice in the world at large.

You press a hand to the ground next to the dustpan and grip the handle with your other. You focus, feeling for the same life juice that Abigail used, but instead of looking for the stuff in her mortal body, you stretch out your senses into the ground and to the core of this living planet.

Plenty of life juice there!

You pull, and after just a tiny bit of resistance, a fraction of a fraction of the world’s essence it torn out of the ground, through your hand, arm, shoulders and finally into the magical circle.

There’s a woosh.

You notice the perfectly circular hole in the ground first, mostly where the dustpan used to be. Then, when you look up, you see the hole in the ceiling that keeps going all the way through Abigail’s apartment, the roof, and into the cloudy sky above.

Neat!

And you still have tons of life juice left in you, so much that you’re practically glowing with the stuff.

[Channels energy from the earth's core enough to blast a hole in the sky]
- 8
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“But what are you? You’re not human, you’re not the sort of creature I’ve read about in my bestiaries. Daphne didn’t recognize you. Familiars are supposed to compliment the summoner, so I want to know — have to know — what you are.”

“That’s silly,” you tell her. If you could distill the essence of what you are and what you’re able to do in a few words you would, but people are more than just a race and some attributes, and you’re more people than most. “But I can tell you, if you want. I just need to give you the knowledge.”

“Give me the knowledge?” Abigail repeats.

You nod. “Yup. It’s easy. I just need to put it in your head. But I won’t do it for free,” You warn her while waving a finger between the two of you. “It’s a lot of work, and I guess I should make sure you stay mostly sane because you wouldn’t like it otherwise. So I need to be paid for it.”

...

You reach a hand up and press it to the back of Abigail’s head. “Close your eyes,” you tell her.

The eyes are the windows to one’s soul. It’s why you have tentacles to feel things instead of eyes all over. Windows go both ways, after all. “Mmm, okay,” Abigail says into your shoulder.

She’s ready then. You pat-pat the back of her head.

The human brain is a squishy thing. It’s very fragile and kinda poorly made. You need to be very careful as you slip your tentacles through her skull and into the meaty bits.

You root around for a bit and find the metaphorical off switch. With a flick, Abigail goes loose in your grasp, her breathing stops, her heart beats one last time and shudders to a stop. The hug isn’t as nice now that she’s dead.

Sighing, you let her down onto the floor, keeping her steady with a whole lot of tentacles while a whole lot more phase into her head. Mortals are so squishy and easy to break, but you’re starting to think that they’re fun anyway.

You find the bits of Abigail’s mind that deal with remembering things, there are a few of them, and they’re kinda small. You compare that to all the knowledge of who you are that you wanted to cram in there, the infinite eons spent in the great darkness, the long naps tucked away in corners where space met time at odd angles. The kerfuffles with Great Old Ones and Elder Gods.

It won’t fit.

Shrugging, you get rid of all the boring parts, keeping only the more fun memories of who and what you are, then you trim that back even more. It wouldn’t do for your summoner to know everything about you. Plus there are some embarrassing things that even you’d rather not remember.

Once everything is nice and neat, you notice that your brain spike is still bigger than the room you’re in. That won’t fit in her head, not unless you make her head bigger on the inside... a thought for later.

You cut out all you knowledge of things you can do. She wanted to know about you, not learn how to do the things you can do. Some more trimming and you’re left with a bundle of fleshy nerves that should fit in her head just like a tiny, cute little tumour.

You pat it into place, tongue stuck between your teeth as you focus.

And done!

You poke her brain so that it starts up again, then zap her heart back into beating. She was only dead for a minute, so she’s probably fine.

Abigail gasps and sits up straight. Her apron squishes against her knees as she brings them up to her chest and starts to breathe really fast.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

Her head whips around towards you. “You’re a god,” she whispers.

You blink. That’s silly. She’s being silly.

“But... you can’t be. There aren’t any gods,” she says next. “The inquisition, if they find out.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course there are gods. Don’t go telling the Elder Gods that they don’t exist, or they’ll make you stop existing. But I’m not one of them. I’m Dreamer.”

She wipes away the drops of blood pouring out of her nose with the back of one hand. She doesn’t seem to notice, which is handy because you’re pretty sure that’s not supposed to be happening.

[Dreamer granting someone eldritch knowledge, killing them by flicking their 'off switch,' and resurrecting them]
- 10
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You reach out with tentacles that the girls can’t see and grab the dress. You don’t grab it here though.

There are an infinite number of universes, each one layered atop the next like the pages in a book. So, just like someone opening a book up and tearing out a page, you reach into one dimension to the left and tear the dress out of it.

Your nose scrunches as there’s an explosion of cloth and lace and frills and the corner of the shop you’re in is swamped by a thousand near-identical copies of the same dress.

You’re bowled over and the girls are buried under a tsunami of frills.

You blink when the tumbling stops, only then realizing that you might have been a little enthusiastic with your cross-dimensional tearing.

Oh well, now you have lots of pretty dresses! You’re sure they’ll be cheap once the people in the store stop screaming. But just in case, you tuck a few of them away in the dimensions where you store most of your mass.

Your real body deserves a pretty dress too, after all.

[Invisible tentacles and grabbing things from parallel universes to bring them into this one - a fuckton of the 'same' dress, in this case]
- 12

Author Note: 1^984​ pretty dresses added to inventory. (clarifies in comments that it's scientific notation (1 * 10^984, but it's because it's the same "1" dress copied that many times)
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Not that any of that matters because you are the proud new owner of the prettiest dress. Your entire body is covered in frills and lace except for your head and hands. Even your real body is now protected by an ablative layer made up of billions of petticoats. Anyone trying to hurt you now is in for a lacey surprise!

[She duplicated the dress billions of times]
- 13
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You let your tentacles slip out from the bottom of your skirt, then wrap them around your shoulders and arms and waist. It only takes a bit of effort to spawn more tentacles from those tentacles, then to have them change texture to match the canvas-y material you see a lot of coats are made of. Soon enough you have an awesome long coat wrapped snugly around you, only it’s better than any normal long coat because it’s made of tentacles.

A tentacoat, as it were.

Abigail is eyeing you carefully, but she just shakes her head once your tentacoat is complete. Obviously she is jealous of your waterproofing methods, so you whip out a tentacle towards her and ignore her squeak as it multiplies and covers her from head to toe. In the time it takes her to blink she’s covered in her own tentacoat. “T-thanks?” she says.

“Yes,” you reply.

[Tenticoats]
- 13
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You shrug. ”I’ll just copy all the things first, so that you can have some too.” It takes only a passing thought to spin the stuff you’re holding in just the right way for them to split apart. Then you take all of the originals and toss them onto a pile of skirts that you use to grab onto the whole lot without needing a dozen tentacles.

“What do you mean, copy?” Abigail asks.

You don’t have time to answer.

A hole is shred into reality a few feet above your head and Abigail eeps as she stumbles back. That’s good, because now she’s outside of the splash radius.

With a grunt of effort, you push your tentacle through the rip in reality and right into and past the shop’s brick wall.

Having a tentacle the size of a small tree pierce through a wall is surprisingly loud, you discover as both you and Abigail shield your head from flying bits of masonry.


“Oops?” you say before letting go of the stuff your tentacle is holding onto. You might have dropped them on one of those glass displays, judging by all the glass-breaking noises.

Your tentacle slithers sheepishly back into the hole in reality and closed it on the way back.

[Duplicating items, tearing a hole in reality for portal teleporting, small tree sized tentacles]
- 15
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Maybe Abigail would like to live in a small castle. Or a big castle. You could hollow out one of your older tentacles and plant it in the ground somewhere, like a giant fleshy pillar that would reach low orbit. Then all you’d need to do is add windows and some doors and make a crown for Abigail.

[One of Dreamer's tentacles could apparently reach low orbit]
- 16
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Then you stare at the empty cup and plate and shove those in your mouth too. They’re both very crunchy.

Everyone is watching you as your cheeks puff out to fit the bits of broken porcelain you’re nibbling on.

“I shall find the young miss a new cup, perhaps from the servant’s tea set,” Edmund says before exiting with a bow.

“That was yummy, but now we need to talk,” you say.

[Just kinda eats a cup and plate]
- 17
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You arrive home in record time, a bag filled with books floating behind you, hooked onto a tentacle that’s mostly intangible and invisible except for the distortions it leaves in the air. A few mortals stare, but they have floaty things too so it can’t be too weird.

[Invisible and Intangible tentacles]
- 24
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Then she puts some of the shampoo on your head and rubs it in. It’s really nice until some of it gets into your eyes.

“Ahh!” you scream as it burns.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Abigail says. “Put some water in your eyes,” she says from right behind you.

You reach up and pluck your eyes out, then wiggle them under the water.

When you push them back into your face and turn to see Abigail, she stares at you with her mouth opened and her face very pale. Maybe the hot water isn’t for her.

Abigail soon shoos you out of the bath and makes sure you’re wrapped in a big towel before telling you to go wait in your room.
[Casually takes eyes out to wash them]
- 24
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Nodding, you reach around with a big tentacle and stuff it into the planet’s core to siphon off some of that yummy life juice. “Open wide!”

“Wha--”

A tentacle jams itself into Abigail’s mouth and spurts life juice down her throat while she’s too tired to yank it out. It’s a good thing that you only wanted to give her a little because when you pull it out she coughs and sputters a lot.

“Dreamer! Wh-what was that for!” she says. Then she notices that her skin now has a nice, healthy glow. “Dreamer, what?”

“I made you more magical!” you say before a tentacle removes her ugly hat and a million more, smaller tentacles run through her hair and unmuss it.

[Shoves a tentacle into the earth's core and uses a million tentacles to run through someone's hair]
- 25
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The old lady stands up. “Stay here. I need to report th--”

She is cut off, no longer able to talk because you’ve surrounded her face with a tentacle. Another tentacle, one that’s only a little bit in this world slips into her head and roots around until you find what she’s talking about.

“Oh, there are tadpoles here!” you say.

“What?” Abigail asks.

“They’re like, uh, ideas that don’t last very long, but that a lot of you humans have, like daydreams that all gather together and then become a thing.”

“Like you?” Abigail asks.

You harrumph and give her a glare. “Tadpoles are small and weak and they hardly taste like anything and they’re only a few million years old. When they grow really old and big and strong, then they taste way better.”

“Uh,” Abigail says. “What about, um, her?” she asks.

You roll your eyes and fix a few things in the old lady’s head, then push her back into her seat and remove the tentacle around her mouth. “And you... you... are the most beautiful familiar I have ever seen. You are so pretty and nice. I... I should hug you. And pat you.”

“No thank you old lady,” you tell her. “I only want pats and hugs from Abigail.”

“Ah, yes, of course. You pass, obviously.” the old lady says as she pushes a paper towards Abigail. “Next!” she calls out of the room.

[Semi-dimensional tentacle, mind reading, and mind control]
- 26
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You roll your eyes, just like she taught you, and tear your hand off with some tentacles to fling it into a nearby trash bin. Pinching your brow a little you focus and grow a new hand from some spare flesh you have laying around. “New hand!” You exclaim. “Never held before.” You wiggle it at Abigail and she grabs it to see if its hurt, which is silly. If you made a mistake you’d just grow another.

[Regen comes from flesh she has lying around near her true body - probably a fuckton]
- 27
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You huff and with some tentacles, grab all the sounds in the room. It goes really quiet and people start looking around to find where their noise went, but the joke’s on them because you have it all. “Hey!” you say and throw all the noise into the word. This time it’s super loud, even if you let go of the sound while speaking. “I need your attention now.”

Just about everyone is staring at you from your place on the table. “This is Abigail,” you say as you point down towards Abigail. Her face is very red, and she looks a little faint, but she smiles and waves so she must be okay. “Abigail is my Summoner and she’s the best. She wants to make friends. So, if you’re close to her age, nice, like reading, learning, spending time with rich people and patting cute things on the head, then please come here and make a line so that I can decide if you’re good enough for her.”

Abigail has both hands pressed over her face and is making weird noises when you hop off the edge of the table.

[Sound manip]
- 28
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Fortunately, Abigail has a bunch of books in your little apartment, and they all have knowledge in them. You pop an eye out and fling it over to a tentacle that grabs it out of midair. Now you can scan her library for books about fixing humans.

It only takes a few minutes to discover that Abigail, the silly summoner, has no books on that subject. Not a single one. Plenty of books on boring things like physics and magic and familiars, but not a single good book about Daphnes or love or cuddling.

At least, that’s what you think at first!

Some creative searching and you find a pile of books neatly tucked inside the heating vent right next to the bed. Of course Abigail would hide her best books! Just like how you hide all the smart things you know so deep in your own mind that sometimes you forget how smart you are. You pry the metal grate off the front of the vent with a plop and set it aside.

[Eye still sees when not attached to Dreamer's skull]
- 35
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If they really wanted to summon Pou-tine then they would need a lot more than what they have here. They have no symbols, nothing that Pou-tine would want, and their chant is all wrong. You’re beginning to think that someone taught these students wrong on purpose.

Shaking your head, you split your attention between your small mostly-mortal body and your real big body. A call goes out across the void, not a ritual but a proper message sent between two very old things.

Your message is quite simple: “Hey, Pou-tine, some mortals want to talk.” And then you attach the proper place and time to the message. Hopefully the Old Faiths club will appreciate your help.

The room starts to smell like fried potatoes.

Curious, you take a peek on the Other Side only to find Pou-tine’s gravy-like tentacles and curds of madness swamping around the void. Its fri-eyes lock onto you and it waves a hello.

You wave back because you’re a good neighbour. You only try to eat Pou-tine when you’re really hungry or in the mood.

Reaching up with you mortal body’s hand, you grab onto Abigail. “It’s time to go now,” you say.

“W-what?” she squeaks.

“Pou-tine is coming. It’s time to go.” You accentuate that by pulling her towards the door.

The other girls hesitate a little, but they follow after you.

You only just close the door when the chanting turns to screaming, and you need to step fast to avoid the splat of gravy leaking out from under the door.

“Okay, that was fun,” you say. “Where do we go now?”

[Casually summoning an eldritch entity]
- 41
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“Dreamer, sweetie,” Abigail says quickly. “There’s a nice room right next to this one where you can wait. It’ll be a lot more fun. Don’t you want to go wait there? Just for a bit?”

“Miss Normal, control your Familiar or I’ll have you suspended!” the professor says over the chuckles and laughs.

You look at Abigail, then at the still red-faced professor. “Fine,” you say. “But I’ll still be here with you,” you say as you get up. Then, in a louder voice so that the professor can hear. “And that old lady is still a meanie. She’s just what I would expect from a mortal species backsliding into idiocy.”

If she suspends Abigail then you’ll suspend her.

With a huff you leave the classroom and let the door smack close behind you. It sucks not being near Abigail, but you still have a bunch of tentacles in the room, a whole lot of them with eyes and mouths and ears and other things that let you know what’s going on.

The professor doesn’t try anything after making a big lecture about proper behaviour, which is good because Abigail would be upset if you broke her teacher.

[Invisible sensory tentacles]
- 43
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You notice his fists tightening and are about to poke him some more when Abigail places a hand on your shoulder and shakes her head. You grumble a bit, but stay quiet until you’re brought into a small room with a long table in its middle. You and Abigail and Charlotte are made to sit on one side, all three of you facing a wall with a big mirror.

A mirror with someone standing behind it. There’s a circle etched into the other side of the mirror, and the middle part of that circle is completely transparent on the one side.

They might think they’re clever hiding behind mirrors, but you’ve eaten your share of reflections and mirror dimensions, you won’t be tricked so easily.

[Sees through one way mirror, has eaten mirror dimensions and reflections]
- 44
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The person on the other side of the mirror is a tall, barrel-chested man. His coat hides a suit of armour over cloth and his hat is very tall and covered in sparkly things. He looks very important, and very important people know very important things!

A couple of tentacles sneak sneaky-like into the room from all the darkest corners, then start wiggling through the air towards the big man.

They’re almost there when he spins around and slashes out with a sword that you never even noticed he had. A couple of your tentacles lose their end bits and you wince.

“Are you okay, Dreamer?” Abigail asks you in a whisper. It cuts off the conversation for a moment until you nod.

“I banged my toe,” you lie, then start rocking from side to side while kicking your feet out under the table. There’s a panel there and you feet to thump-thump against it with every kick. The girls nod and the man clears his throat before he returns to questioning everyone. Daphne is wearing a smug smile as she answers everything in a way that answers nothing.

The man in the room is having a bit of trouble now. He might have cut a couple of tentacles, but there are billions where those came from and plenty of places where you can open holes in the world to make more pour in.

Soon enough he’s cocooned in them. “You won’t get away with this!” he screams.

You catch the noises before they have time to leave the room. Tentacles covered in mouths and teeth and other things made for speaking start pouring in. “It’s okay, important mister,” you say. “You won’t remember a thing.”

Tentacles dive into his head, slipping past his skull to root around. You’re not quite as careful as you were with Abigail, but you try to stop his head from exploding or anything like that while you search for Pou-tine.

It only takes a moment.

Your meat body frowns at what you learn. Pou-tine is being held captive. Not all of Pou-tine, just a small fraction, but it’s enough that Pou-tine can’t just leave. Like getting a hand caught in a cookie jar that you can’t break because if you do Abigail will be disappointed at you.

You’re going to need to do something about that. Fortunately, you see what they used to trap Pou-tine and it would be trivially easy to break it.

[Billions of tentacles cocoon a guy before rummaging through his memories (implied that she could explode heads with her TP)]
- 44
----------------------------------------------------
You huff. This is taking too long. “Fine. I’ll stay here and go.”

“Oh?” Charlotte asks. She has been looking around ever since she entered Daphne’s house but now she’s focused on you. “You can split yourself?”

“Oh no,” Abigail whispers in horror. You can understand her fear. That would mean having to split her hugs between you and another you, which is only half as many hugs.

You shake your head. “No. I just need to leave some of me here and let this part of me go.” To demonstrate you tentacle a hole though the universe and have one of your wigglier tentacles poke out of it in the air behind you. “See, now you’ll know that my big body is safe.”

“Your big body?” Charlotte asks.

You don’t have a lot of time to explain, but it would be rude not to. “This body,” you say as you gesture to yourself. “Is my small body. My big body is where I am. This is like a puppet body for hugs and cuddles.” Which now that you mention it means Abigail never hugged your big body. It would take many, many hundreds of years for her to hug all of it. You need to hurry up and make her less mortal.

“So, as long as your main body is intact, you can just make a new puppet body?” Charlotte asks.

“Yes!” you say.

[As long as Dreamer's main body is alive, Dreamer can create more puppet bodies]
- 46
----------------------------------------------
Walking all the way to the Inquisition’s headquarters would take too long, so when you’re finally outside you make a big tentacle come out of the ground, wrap your small body around its tip, then fling yourself across the city. Like throwing a rock only it’s you instead.

You cheer as you fly past a bunch of houses and, thanks to your super fast reflexes, snap a pigeon out of the air as an in-flight snack.

You crash into the roof of an apartment building two blocks away from the Inquisition, roll a lot to bleed off your speed, then fall off the edge and crash at the bottom of an alleyway. But you didn’t lose your snack and you can fix all the broken bones so it’s okay.

Getting up, you dust off your ninja outfit, rub some feathers off your face, then stick your head out of the alley.

There aren’t a lot of mortals around at this hours, so hardly anyone notices as you run across the streets towards the big castle and slip through some alleyways and up some walls with your tentacles.

[Flings herself across a city and heals multiple broken bones after landing]
- 46
--------------------------------------------------

You find a shadowy place next to a newspaper stand across the street, then you grab some more shadows from a few other places and bring them closer so that you’re even harder to see.

This is where you’ll do all your work.

Reaching out, you send a billion little tentacles that are just on the other side of everything questing within the Conclave to map out every tunnel and passage and room. Some tentacles hit things that shouldn’t be and get zapped or eaten, but they’re small and don’t matter.

You find Pou-tine right where the important man’s memories said they would be. It’s deep, deep under the building, in a room built with hundreds of circles in the ground and a bunch of obelisks that might be made of bones around. Pou-tine is stuck in the centre with all sorts of equipment being aimed at them.

Nodding, you grab your body with another tentacle and move yourself over to where Pou-tine is.

The room smells like rubbing-alcohol and grease. It’s barely lit by a few yellow-ish magic circles on the walls next to rows of metal desks just like in school.

Pou-tine shifts a little, a fri-eye turning in your direction.

[Shadow manipulation, sending a billion little tentacles to fully map a compound]
- 46
---------------------------------------------------
You arrive at another intersection where a bunch of armed Inquisitors are trying to block your path. You make the corridor way bigger, then pinch up the floor so that it stretched into a wall cutting off the end where they put up a barricade.

Silly Inquisitors, they didn’t even try to make it so that their castle was fixed in reality.

[Manipulating a corridor]
- 47
-------------------------------------------------
As of Incident AS-1042B Subject AS-1024 has fled with the assistance of another Anomalous Subject (Potentially AS-1032. See Classified Files AS-1032D). Subject’s appearance has changed to that of a human male of ages 10-13. Subject’s new body was created using the severed limbs of a team of Inquisitorial personnel.

These limbs have since been replaced with anomalous matter in the form of ‘combat tentacles.’ Further experimentation is required. See: Incident AS-1042C.

[Dreamer crafted Pou-Tine's human body out of human limbs, replaced said limbs with combat tentacles for the soldiers]
- interlude one
----------------------------------------------------
You, in the meantime, study the sword. Its very hard and sharp. Probably too hard to eat with your mortal teeth. A quick swipe with your hand across the blade has you dropping a few fingers on the ground.

Mortals certainly have interesting ways of defending themselves. You compare the sword to one of your combat tentacles and find the tentacle... wanting. A bit of focus has the tip of the tentacle sharpen, then it hardens and you form an edge just like the sword’s. A poke-y tentacle for poking holes in things without as much effort.

It can even cut things without rending the fabric of reality. Useful!

“What’s that?” you ask Abigail. This new weaponized tentacle will be fun to play with later, but maybe there are other mortal weapons you can copy.

[Dreamer sharpening her tentacles to compare with a sword, her tentacles normally rend the fabric of reality when they cut things]
- 52
--------------------------------------------------
“Ǹ̷͚̘̤͙̞̘̙̹̀̕o̡̮̠̬̫͙͢͢,” you say.

Tentacles burst out of the ground all around your wagon and in a blink the entire thing is cocooned in walls of your flesh. It’s dark within, dark and quiet until you remember that Abigail doesn’t like the dark and the inside of your tentacles begin to glow.

[Cocoons a wagon and makes the insides glow]
- 53
-----------------------------------------------
Before she has time to reply you’re yanked out of the cocoon. You hover in the air, feet planted on nothing as you tell physics to go eat it's own tail. “I,” you say, voice like the birth of stars. “Am Dreamer. But there are no dreams left for you.”

[Hovering/Flying]
- 53
-----------------------------------------------
A few of the bandits laugh.

Your new combat tentacles lance through them, sprouting branches that sprouted more branches into infinity.

They can’t laugh anymore.

[Internal tentacle attacks?]
- 53
-------------------------------------------
The other bandits are beginning to back away, some arrows are shot at you, but you don’t care, not even when they hit and make your pretty dress ugly with your black blood. It doesn’t matter. You find the one that hurt Abigail and shoot towards him so fast that the air screams at your passing. A glance reveals everything there is to know about him down to the terrors that made him bawl as a infant

You send tentacles into him, tiny ones that look more like writhing noodles than normal tentacles. They each grab a tiny part of him until every cell and atom that makes up the bandit is in your grasp, and then they pull.

The bandit is dust.

He doesn’t deserve to be eaten.

[Glancing at someone reveals their full history, atomic levels tentacle attacks]
- 53
----------------------------------------
You move onto the next. You had been waiting for an opportunity to try out your newer, sharper tentacles, and this is it. Bandits make loud screaming noises as you break them apart into bite-sized bits that you gobble down while still moving. There are more and more tentacles around, some of them warping the world so that those who run away come running back , others, made from the trees and grass and air, grab onto your lunch and hold it in place.

It takes a minute, maybe two, but in the end you float above what had once been a road cutting through a forest. It is now a twisted landscape of tentacles, warped trees, and holes in space and time that go on forever. Abigail... wouldn’t be happy with all of this.

You close up the holes, patch the time warped bits, and yoink the strangest trees back to you real body where they are promptly eaten.

It’s better now, much better. The only problem is that your tummy is really full now and every step makes it bounce and gurgle. So you crush it down, making your meal smaller and smaller until it eats itself.

You land with a ‘hop’ in front of Skinner’s wagon where the boy and Everett and Sigmund and Wuffles are all huddled together and looking off into the distance. “It’s okay, they’re all gone now,” You tell them.

“T-thanks,” Skinner whispers. It’s a very loud whisper in the otherwise silent patch of forest. You suspect that one of your tentacles might have eaten all the sound and maybe also all the birds.

[Space and Time manip for combat, turning the environment into tentacles]
- 53
---------------------------------------------
Skinner eyes you carefully for a moment, then looks up at Abigail. “Could we talk alone?”

“No,” you say with a shake of your head. Your hand snakes up and grabs onto Abigail’s. “Abigail was hurt really badly. I’m not letting her out of my sight.”

Which leads to a very serious thought. You’re here while your friends are way over there in their wagon still. Too far for you to hear them if then need help with something. That’s... probably a big oversight on your part. What if a bandit sneaks back?

You make an eyetacle spawn out of the side of the wagon, just a long stalk with an eyeball on the end that blinks a few times before wiggling around to face the girls. They’re both staring at it really hard like. Ah, maybe they don’t know it’s a friendly eyetacle.

You help by pushing out a tentacle whose end bit or just a hole lined with serrated teeth, then you make it squish up on the edges in a sort of smile. There, now the girls know that it’s a friendly nomtacle.

A few ears pop out of the sides of the two tentacles so that you can hear and you’re done. Now if something happens you’ll know right away, and it only took a few seconds to set up.

[Spawning sensory tentacles in a wagon far enough away to be out of earshot]
- 54
--------------------------------------------------
“Right,” Skinner said. “I’ll be sure to inform everyone that they ought to be carefull.” He licks his lips and looks around. “We’re going to continue on our mission. If that’s okay with you? Though things might be delayed on account of needing to take another road. I don’t have the materials or time to move this tree out of the path.”

A tentacle wobbles out from the forest and splits at the end with a loud screeching noise. Then, while everyone is watching, it pinches the middle of the tree and flings it out into the woods the same way your small body might pick up a branch and flick it aside.

“Done!” you say. “Do you think we can get to the inn in time? I’ve never been to a place that’s dedicated to making people sleep before.”

[Individual tentacles can fling large trees with ease]
- 54
--------------------------------------------------------
“Look.” You gesture to the ground where--with a bit of a rumble--a tentacle the size of your small body pokes out of the ground. Then it shifts and warps, bits pulling in with squelchy noises and other parts poking out like extra tentacles. In moment’s there’s a new you standing there, all naked and glassy-eyed. Then you give it one of your pretty dresses and no one who doesn’t know you would know that it’s not your main small body.

“My name is Dreamer and I’m hungry,” the new you says. It turns its head to Everette and frowns. “Are you Abigail?”

“No,” he says before taking a step back.

New-you frowns harder. “Are you food?”

You shake you main-you’s head. “I can’t split it without losing some control,” you explain. “But it’s still me. Now I just need to make enough to find all the bandits...”

Dozens, then hundreds of tentacles break out of the ground all over the hill and soon there are Dreamers all over the place. You, of course, keep on hugging Abigail so that she knows which Dreamer is the best Dreamer and where to direct any patting that she might want to do.

It’s not like patting the other yous would be bad, it would still be a pat for you, but not for you-you, which is why you need to defend Abigail from yourself.

“So,” Daphne says, sounding sort of faint. “This is how the world ends.”

“Abigail, you need to tell the stupid mes to go find the bandits,” I tell Abigail.

She opens and closes her mouth a few times. “Can you, ah, take them all back after?” she asks.

“Yeah, probably. Now hurry up, I’m all hungry.”

“Right,” Abigail says. “Um, everyone, uh, Dreamer!” she says, voice rising until every Dreamer around is looking at her. You all begin to smile because Abigail is paying you all attention. Everette starts saying bad words under his breath. “Right. We need to find the bandits. Can you do that?” she asks.

“Do we get pats?” one of you asks.

The impertinence!

“Um. The one who finds the bandits gets pats, yes,” Abigail says.

Nearly a thousand Dreamers scamper away, a sea of pretty purple dresses disappearing into the woods with tentacle-swings that send them from tree to tree.

Soon you can’t see a single Dreamer where you are atop the hill. It becomes nice and quiet and peaceful.


[Summoning nearly a thousand clones (showcasing that Dreamer's current body is just a puppet]
- 60
-------------------------------------------------------
You narrow your eyes at yourself.

Then one of you swings a tentacle and the fight is on.

The bandits scream and run out of their huts to watch as two of you spin and roll across the ground of their camp, tentacles spearing out every which way as you try to be the first to grab yourself. One of you gets lucky and manages to poke a tentacle through the other you’s chest.

“Got you!” you scream.

“No, I’ve got you!” you scream right back, revealing that it was a trick to get you to lower your guard. You gasp as you crash into yourself and wrap little hands around your throat to throttle your head into an unlit firepit. Tentacles are wrapping around each other all around you to keep them away from the fight in the centre.

Just as quickly as it begins, the fight ends and only one of you is left standing, bloody and with some broken bits, but still standing proud. “I get the pats!” you declare before your tentacles spear into your dead body and start eating it.

The bandits who have been watching all along don’t seem to know what to do about this, but they're just stupid mortals who won’t get any headpats. “Who the hell are you?” the biggest, burliest bandit asks.

You slap him across the face with a tentacle for interrupting your fantasizing about all the headpats you’re going to receive. He flies off, teeth spraying out of his mouth.

The you that’s next to Abigail, the best you, according to yourself, turns around to look up to Abigail. “I found them,” you say. “Do I eat them now?”

[Clone fight]
- 61
-------------------------------------------------
You consider this. Movement is a change in location. Moving is the act of doing that change. They can’t act if they’re not in the same time as you, so all you need to do is tell time not to mess with them for a little bit.

Or maybe they would stay where they are and the planet would keep on moving and that would punch a bunch of holes through it. Which is rude, especially after the planet helped you so much. “I can tie them together with tentacles,” you say.

“That would work, yes,” Abigail says. “Can you lead us over?”

[Implied time stop abilities]
- 61
------------------------------------------------------
Abigail arrives and just sort of stares for a while before taking a deep, shuddering breath. Then the you that found the camp rushes over. “Abigail! I’m the one that deserves the pats!” you say.

The other yous cross their arms and pout a bunch, but it’s true, you do deserve the pats.

“Ah, well, um, good work,” Abigail says as she pats you on the head.

You beam.

Then the best you gets tired of having so many other yous around, especially if you’re going to take Abigail’s attention away from yourself. Yous start to pop and collapse into heaps only to be picked up by passing tentacles and tossed into holes in reality.

The bandits, all of them naked, stare in mounting horror as all the yous are eliminated.

Then there’s only one you. You think.

You’re mostly sure that none of the other yous escaped and that’s good enough.

[Desummoning clones and throwing them through holes in reality]
- 61
-----------------------------------------------

“Are you sure they won’t try to run away?” Abigail asks as she looks over her shoulder to all the bandits behind.

“Nah,” you say. “I’m keeping some eyes on them.”

Sometimes when the bandits turn their heads around fast enough they catch a glimpse of your eyetacles before they slink into the shadows. They usually shiver a lot after that, or start muttering things until another bandit tells them to shut up.

For a bunch of ruffians they’re very well behaved. They only tried to run away once.

[Eye tentacles slinking into shadows]
- 62
-------------------------------------------

“Are you saying she’s... it’s a god?” he whispers back. A look over his shoulder has him blanching as he catches your eye.

You wave.

“I’m saying that it doesn’t matter what she is. She’s snuck into the Inquisition’s headquarters and there wasn’t a damned thing they could do about it just because she felt like it. Dreamer could turn FivePeaks into a crater at a whim. For some reason she cares about Abigail and listens to her. So right here and right now you are going to listen to me.”

[Could turn Five Peaks (large town) into a crater on a whim]
- 62
------------------------------------------
“I have to report this,” he says.

“If you do that what will they do? Try to seperate Dreamer from Abigail? She would tear through the Inquisition like a rabid wolf in a sheep’s pen. Would they hurt Abigail? Dreamer can open portals into outer space. I’m quite certain the only reason they don’t bleed out our atmosphere is because she knows that Abigail needs to breathe. Dreamer could kill every last human on the continent, I’m certain of it, and she would eat us all if it wasn’t for Abigail. So what you’re going to do, is shut that stupid mouth of yours before it flaps and we all end up dead because you couldn’t keep a secret.”

Everette is quiet for a while. “Fine,” he finally says. “She hasn’t done bad by me yet, nor has Abigail. But if they cross the line I’m doing what I need to do. How are you going to keep the bandits quiet?”

[Portals to outer space that don't leak in cus she knows Abigail needs to breathe among other thing]
- 62
---------------------------------------------
If you’re going to get all the mortals to treat Abigail the way they should (that is, with lots of bowing and giving her plenty of food) then you’ll need to teach them about how great Abigail is.

You spawn another you (with no tentacles because you’re keeping a low profile) just around the corner in an alley between two buildings. This you looks around for a bit, then starts wandering towards Abigail until you remind yourself that you’re there for something else.

You, that is, the you in the alley, pat-pats the ground a bit, and then you build a small altar out of rocks that you push out of the earth. Some of the rocks deep, deep down are very shiny, so you use those to make a small statue of Abigail smiling, her hair all spread out behind her like billowing tentacles and with a big pair of glasses perched on her little button nose. Then you write some simple instructions in a True Tongue onto the altar.

Very easy! Now, when the conditions are right and/or you’re a bit peckish, the altar will appear and anyone that sees it will be able to read and understand that they should put yummy food on the stone slab.

But you’ll need some sort of activation thing to tell you when they’re done...

You add to the statue of Abigail, giving it a bust and some arms that are raised as if to give a hug, then you add hinges that allow the arm to turn and be lowered. Two more statues appear on either end of the altar that look like you, but smaller.

Now, when they’re done putting food on the altar to Abigail they just need to lower the arms so that they’re patting the statues of you and you’ll know that it’s time for a snack.

You guess you can give the people that do that for you something. Maybe some knowledge or some gold or a pet from the void. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that they’ll know that Abigail is good and that they should give her, and you, yummies.

[Dreamer makes giant statues with eldritch incantations attached]
- 63
-------------------------------------------
“Ah, I think we should toast to a weekend spent with good friends,” Abigail says.

“And to somehow convince Dreamer not to eat the world like one of those gods in the old stories?” Charlotte asks.

You harrumph. You would never eat the world. Abigail lives on it, and it’s been nice so far. The moon, on the other hand... “I’m not a god,” you pout.

“Aren’t you?” Daphne asks. "I’m not well versed in the myths that existed before the Inquisition came around and swept everything away, but your actions so far...”

“Nuh-huh,” you say with a shake of the head. “Gods are little things that bumble around and come from things like mortal imaginations and stuff. They’re merely conceptual and can usually only do stuff that has to do with their own... stuff.” you frown. The mortal tongue has too many words for some things and none for others. “Like, a time god can only do things with time. Make it go faster, stop, go backwards and stuff like that. It’s weak.”

“Weak, “Abigail says. She sounds a little faint. Maybe she needs to go to sleep sooner.

[Implied Dreamer could eat the earth or the moon, states that time manip-based Gods are weak]
- 64
---------------------------------------------
Now that she’s sleeping... you reach over and grab the bottle of juice the girls have been drinking from and give it a sniff. It smells fruity and kind of tangy.

“Oh, I can’t imagine this ending well,” Charlotte says. She raises her cup to you. “Enjoy.”

You shake your head. “I can’t drink this. Abigail told me not to,” you say before replacing the bottle in the centre of the table. A teeny tiny tentacle slips in and pokes at it, then it touches your cup full of water and turns it into the same stuff.

“I think that might be cheating,” Charlotte says.

You roll your eyes. There’s no such thing as cheating. Not when it comes to hugs, eating or tentacles.

“Oh, let her have a bit,” Daphne says. “It’ll loosen her up.”

“I’m plenty loose,” you say. Tentacles need to be wiggly to work. You ignore Daphne’s sudden bout of giggling laughter as you pick up the cup and take a big gulp. It’s okay, you guess. Not as good as some other things you’ve tried. The acids at home tasted better, more of a tingle to them than this has.

Still, you finish your cup, refill it with water, and turn that into more juice. You want to be like your friends.

[Turning water into wine]
- 65
--------------------------------------------
And then you watch Abigail as she snores, a bit of drool slipping out of the corner of her mouth.

She’s extra cute while she’s napping, but just said case, you push some happy dreams into her mind. And then it’s your turn to go to bed... but you’re not sure if you feel like it.

Oh, you’re always ready for a nap, but your small body is all excited and wants to move, not sleep.

[Can give people pleasant dreams]
- 66
------------------------------------
You walk off the edge of the roof and crash into the ground feet-first, knees bending into a curtsy like Daphne does when introducing herself.

There isn’t too much to do in the city when everything is closed down, you realize. All the little mortals are asleep, and you can feel plenty of them dipping their toes into the land of dreams. It’s kind of nice, like a sort of compliment, you figure.

[Can feel when people are dreaming]
- 66
--------------------------------------
Skipping ahead (because when you skip your dress floofs and it’s the best) you move over to the fountain in the middle of the square and look within. It’s just normal water, but it smells a little ickly and it’s probably not very good for drinking. At least, not for mortals.

The fountain has a bunch of water spouts hidden in the mouths of monsters and for some reason babies, and above it all are statues of a man and a woman with crowns on their heads. The man has a sword above his head, and the woman is holding a scroll. There’s a plaque at the base of the fountain with some words about ‘doubting and therefore knowing.’

Very boring.

You want more of that fruity juice that you drank at the restaurant with your friends, so you turn the fountain into a fruit fountain.

Juice gurgles out of the little baby faces and the weird monsters carved into the stone. But soon it turns back into water.

You frown at it.

The water has to come from somewhere. Most things in mortal places come from somewhere.

You frown extra-hard at the fountain and now all the water coming out of it is juice, all the way down to wherever the water used to come from. Then, because you find the monsters and babies ugly, you make them look more like you.

The guy with the sword can become...Charlotte, and the lady can become Daphne. More or less. It’s tricky to work with stone.

Then you replace the sword with a whip and the scroll with a tentacle. And the plaque with the date and stuff now says ‘Dreamer was here’ but in a True Tongue.

Art is fun!

You drink lots and lots of juice, until your little tummy is aching with pleasure, then you waddle off. You’re a bit more tired now, more than ready for naptime.

As you walk back towards home and Abigail, you cross over a nice little river that smells like grapes and then you splash into a few purple puddles alongside the road.

You can’t wait for tomorrow when everyone discovers your art. They’re going to be so proud!

[Transmutes an entire river into wine along with a fountain]
- 66
--------------------------------------------
You don’t want to wake up. Waking up in the morning is just not the way things are meant to be. Everyone, mortal or otherwise, should get used to the idea that the perfect time to wake up is somewhere around night time. That way you can hop out of bed, eat a bunch, then jump right back in.

But no, mortals are all busy bodies that want to do stuff right away because they know that they might die at any moment. Even Abigail, who will never die because dying is for other people, is up at the crack of dawn and shaking your shoulder for you to get up.

You consider pushing the sun away. Or maybe spinning the planet in the other direction to make the night last longer, but Abigail would get all huffy and you’re pretty sure you already considered and dismissed that plan once before.

[States that she can move around stars and planets]
- 67
--------------------------------------------
Abigail is standing on the side of the bed. She managed to escape your cuddles at some point and even had time to get dressed.

Was she trying to give you as much sleep time as possible?

This is why Abigail is the best Summoner.

She raises a hand, and presents a clear glass cup to you filled with sloshing juice. “Explain,” she says.

“Juice?”

“No. Wine,” she says. “Wine that I got from the tap when I went to get some water.”

“Okay,” you say.

She makes a little spinny gesture with her hand that means ‘get on with it’ in mortal. “Well, how did this happen?”

Sitting up on the side of the bed you rub your eyes to get rid of the eye crud you accumulated (one of the best parts of the morning!) and then yawn really big. “Oh, I think that comes from my art project.”

“Your art project?” Abigail asks. “I’m... too hungover to deal with that.”

“But it’s really pretty,” you say.

Abigail looks at you for a bit, then takes a long swallow from her cup. “Go on.”

“I found an ugly fountain down the road,” you say while pointing a tentacle more or less in the right direction. “It was very ugly.”

“You mean the statue of the king and queen of Five Peaks? The one with the fountain?”

You shrug. “The ugly one. I made it better. Now there’s a Daphne and a Charlotte and they look really cool. And also there’s my face and I replaced all the water with juice.”

“All the water?” Abigail asks.

“All the water going to the fountain,” you say.

“Which is fed by either the river or the city reservoir. Brilliant.”

“It isn’t brilliant. I didn’t think of making it glow, but I can change that.”

“Please don’t,” Abigail says. She looks around, then with a shrug of her own finishes her cup. “We should head out.”
[Clarification on just how much water she transmuted]
- 67
---------------------------------------------
“Breakfast?” You wonder.

“I have some change, we can pick something from a street vendor. If they’re not too drunk.”

You hop off the bed and are dressed so fast that even time doesn’t know when you went from wearing nothing but a nightgown to one of your pretty dresses. “Let’s go!”

[Time manip to get dressed? Probably not]
- 67
--------------------------------------------
“Okay, so, you like your masters, right?” you ask.

The familiars all seem to agree that their masters are pretty swell.

“Well, your masters are all gonna die from being mortal, right?”

There’s a lot of unease at the idea, and you can sympathize, Abigail was totally able to die before you came around. Now she’s not allowed. If one of those conceptual death gods tries something you’re going to have words.

“Right, so if you give stuff to the Abigail shrines, then, if you give enough, I’ll maybe make it so that your masters don’t die. And I can give them other things, like tentacle bits to make them better.” Charlotte seemed to love her tentacle whip, so maybe others would too?

The animals now seem a whole lot keener on the idea of joining.

[Can seemingly make people immortal or at least massively increase lifespans]
- 68
---------------------------------------------
With a satisfied nod, you use some tentacles on the surface of the planet’s moon to carve out a nice big shrine to Abigail, then you teleport it over to the corner of the room. “Please put some of your yummy, yummy food on there, please,” you say.

As the familiars shuffle about, you consider just how awesome you are and whether having a big throne for yourself would be over the top or not.

[Summons tentacles on the moon, crafts a sculpture there, then teleports it into the room she's in]
- 68
--------------------------------------------
Over on your real body, you spawn a tiny you in a pretty dress. This new you looks around and stares for a bit before looking at your real body. “What was I made for?” you ask.

“You’re going to get pats from Abigail.”

“Aww, yeah! Pats!” The new you says.

“But first, I’m going to throw you as far away as I can, so you’ll only get the pats in a few thousand years.” Your big body says.

The new you slumps. “But I want the pats now.”

“Yes. But this way we'll see if pats gotten after being distant are better.”

“Oh,” the new you says a moment before being flung out into the wider galaxy at a speed that makes light look lazy and slow.

“Dreamer?”

You blink your small body’s eyes (the one with Abigail and the girls, not the one screaming in happiness as it crashes through a sun two solar systems away) and refocus on the world around you. Abigail and the others have moved over to the cafeteria and are all gathering around a table near the back. “Yes?” I ask.

[Main body flings a tiny Dreamer clone so fast she passes by two solar systems in seconds and straight through a sun]
- 69
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“You should have better rewards for people that give more, or who are closer to Abigail. Like cool toys like the whip you gave me for some people, and maybe more power. Can you manage immortality or something like it?”

“Charlotte!” Daphne gasps.

“Yeah, sure,” you say. “That’s easy enough.”

Charlotte grins over to Daphne. “See. Now you get to spend forever with your Abigail.”

[Confirmation - Dreamer totally can make people immortal]
- 69
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A few of the Inquisitors, those wearing long robes instead of armour, rush behind the lines of shield people and start casting complicated spells into the ground and air. You feel a bit of a tingle crawling around you, and all of a sudden you connection through the immaterial plane is cut.

Weird.

You poke at the barriers they’re building with your big body and almost wince as one of them snaps. One of the mage-sorts screams out something and they redouble their efforts.

You hope Abigail won’t be mad that you broke someone’s thing.

One of the Inquisitors steps up. He’s important. You know this because his hat is very tall and ends in a point, with little feathers and some fluff stuck to it and there are tassels around the brim handing down to his shoulder.

[Easily breaking through a barrier that cuts off connection to the immaterial plane, whatever that is
- 74
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The man stiffens. “Don’t let the creature talk. It must be disposed of. Are the shields in place?”

“They are!” One of the mages says. “It can’t reach through the immaterial anymore. It’s harmless.”

Harmless? Sure, you can’t reach through the one plane, but what about reaching through time?

Tentacles that were definitely there all along don’t appear, because they were there already, and they snatch the men on the roof and wrap them up nice and tight.

And what about the imaginary?

Pretendtacles snatch shields away and make them stop existing.

And they didn’t even cover the astral, mental, ancient, magical or dream planes. Terribly lazy.

There’s a lot of screaming as shadow tentacles suck up some men, as grasping tentacles made of pure divine power slip through the hastily erected shields the mages put up, and as some of the inquisitors fall asleep and slip into a realm that’s all yours to play around in.

Meta tentacles squiggle away to go read some other story, and tentacles from the impractical plane flop around uselessly.

Then you boop the shields between the immaterial and this plane and they burst apart. Soon, everything is tentacles, as it should be.

Now you have lots of specimens to use in your patological studies.

Also, you have a new hat.

[Summoning tentacles via time manip, imagination, astral, mental, ancient, magical, dream planes, shadows, divine, existence erasure stuff, plane smashing stuff, etc. OP as fuck ngl]
- 74
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For a moment you’re worried that she doesn’t like your cool new hat. If Abigail doesn’t think it’s nice, then it must be wrong somehow. As it turns out, she’s just looking at all the dead, mostly dead, soon to be dead, and mostly non-existent inquisitors strewn about across the lawn around you.

“Don’t worry about those,” you say. “They’re the ones that I had little accidents with. The others are much better.”

The others, of course, being all the inquisitors you took for your tentacle patting experiments next to your real body. It’s a chore remembering that they need to breath and such, but you’re managing for now. Your experiments in tentacle-based patting are only just beginning, you can’t expect them to bear fruit so suddenly.

[Mild existence erasure on some people, dimension dump BFR on others]
- 75
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“I’ll be right back!” you say before the ground rumbles and a big tentacle pokes out of it to grab you by the waist. With a swing and a flick, you’re sent flying high into the sky, winds whipping at your pretty dress and cool hat so hard that you need to grab onto them to keep them on. Then, at the apex of your flight, you realize a small problem.

You’re not sure which Inquisition people you’re meant to talk to.

Shrugging, you grab one of the people next to your main body, the one that had been wearing the biggest hat, and bring him back into the mortal word.

“Hi!” you say to the wide-eyed man falling next to you.

Then you pull out the oxygen tentacle from his mouth. He starts screaming a lot.

Mortals. You roll your eyes. “Do you know where I can find the big boss of the Inquisition?” you ask.

More screaming. You wiggle the airticle--not be be confused for the tentacles meant for flying--before his face and he stops.

“The boss, where can I find him?” you ask.

More gibbering.

You glare. You won’t keep falling forever. A glance at the city way below says that you only have half a minute at most. And while you will no doubt land with grace, this mortal will go splat in a big way. “C’mon, I just need to know who sent you.”

“Lord Inquisitor Shooksword! He sent us!”

“Good, good. Where is he?” you ask next.

“The, the conclave?” he tries.

You know where that is. It’s the big building with all of the inquisition people in it. Easy.

“Thank you,” you say as you recall your manners. You even pat the man on the head, which brings a smile to your face. Being nice to people is nice.

Then you shove the airticle back into his mouth and flick him back to your main body for further experimentation.

It’s time to go meet the big boss and have a chat.

[Flinging self across a city again, unBFRing someone, then re-BFRing them again]
- 75
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You land gently against the side of a big statue in front of the Inquisition’s conclave building. The statue, a big stone man with an impressive hat and ugly robes, cracks and topples to the side a moment before you splat to the ground.

It’s okay, your legs are only broken for a little bit before you fix them, so no harm done.

Standing up, you straighten your pretty dress, make sure your cool hat is on straight, and then you walk over to the front doors.

[Dreamer's landing destroys a big statue but Dreamer heals the broken legs easily]
- 76
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“Everyone back off!” One of them says. He points a stick at you and a ball of fire leaps out of it with a rumbling whoosh. It rushes across the room, screaming on a path straight for you.

You poke a hole in the world and let the fireball slip though.

There’s a bit of staring after that. “So, uh,” you gesture to where the line was. All the people in front of you have run away. “Does that mean I’m next?”

[Opening holes in the world to defend against attacks]
- 76
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“We want our men returned,” Shooksword said. “And we want you gone.”

You blink. “I guess I could give them back,” you say. That would be kind of polite, wouldn’t it. “And then I’ll leave here, and you’ll agree to never ever bother me and my friends?”

“We will do no such thing,” sword-guy says.

You look at him a bit longer, then it clicks as one of the tentacles moving memories around in your brain accidentally bumps into a metatentacle on the way to grab something else. “Oh, you’re that guy from chapter forty-four,” you say.

“What?” He asked.

“Submit yourself for cognitive hasard testing afterwards,” Shooksword says.

“Yes, my lord.”

[Literal meta knowledge powers]
- 77
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You extend a hand across the table and point right at Mister Lord Shooksword. “You listen to me,” you say.

He does not listen to you.

In fact, while you were busy with more important things, the Inquisition sorts have been trying all sorts of rude things. They put up barriers between realities, have been poking at your tentacles with all sorts of things and have generally been very poor hosts.

You huff. Now’s not the time for that.

Tentacles bat away their attempts to keep you locked up, and when some of those attempts prove a little hard, you remove their very existence, then you eat that existence because wasting food is wrong.

You clap two tentacles together with a noise like the cannonry club makes sometimes. “Now, you listen to me,” you say before climbing onto the table so that you're extra tall. Your hat is brushing the ceiling, that’s how authoritative you are in that moment. “I’m going to talk, and you won’t talk because you’ll be too busy listening, okay?”

[Existence erasure of barriers between realities and other attacks, then eating the erased existences?]
- 78
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Once, Abigail explained to you how mass production worked.

It was very simple.

Mortals, because they were so lame (Other than Abigail, of course) couldn’t just make stuff become more stuff. They had to deal with things being a finite resource. When they burned wood, they only got ashes and smoke to show for it, and they weren’t clever enough to make time go backwards so that it turned back into wood.

Still, they had some smart ideas about making lots of similar things. All they had to do was figure out each step needed to make a thing, then they would repeat the step over and over on something that wasn’t complete yet.

[Implies that she has time reversal]
- 79
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