“Yes,” he says, closing the door.

"I'm think that's probably really not good, 'green' and 'monster' was kinda linked in my dream... What else happened?"

“I turned humanoid while the laundromat-owner was away, since being a gnat is unpleasant. The eldritch abomination crawled out of a washer. It emitted green light, and I was suddenly in a mysterious dream dimension, with a dog that may or may not have been a second form of the eldritch abomination - there were visual similarities. There was a bizarre ever-shifting map, there, and otherwise little of interest. I quizzed the dog: it said that it had unearthed a ‘bad thing’ and then fallen to the mysterious dream dimension. I remembered the thing from my scrying where the scarf hooked in on the only star in that sky, flew towards the only star in the mysterious dream dimension’s sky, and then I was back in the laundromat.

That covers it.”

"That doesn't sound super like my dream dimension, if the world was stable one minute to the next and the narrative never jumped around in the time frame. Still. I think outside help should be a thing, now...."

“Oh?”

"The dream dimension? It's dreamlike. Like, I'll be talking to my grandmother and then the scene just - changes - and it's later or earlier and I know what happened in between, or we'll be talking and she'll remind me about something that hasn't happened yet that I forgot. Or I'll be remembering that one time my ex-friend told a horribly embarrassing story and I'll be listening and in the story at the same time, and then the story changes and the person telling it gets confused - in and out of the story - because it didn't happen that way, and sometimes things from one memory follow me into another, and they don't fit."

“By ‘oh?’ I meant ‘that sounds like you have particular outside help in mind’, not ‘I’m unclear on the properties of your dream dimension’, although that clarification is also useful.”

"Ah, sorry. No. I don't have anyone in mind in particular, unless my roommate knows someone but dragging her into this might be a bad idea."

“If she isn’t secretly in on it, could be good to have another set of eyes, another set of ears...”

"I don't think she knows how secrets work, is the main problem."

“Okay. I don’t have any close friends, you don’t trust your obvious candidate, and the people who’d ordinarily deal with this are potentially compromised, and you don’t have any ideas for people we could go to; our options for acquiring help seem fairly limited. Proceeding under the idea that we can’t get help, do you have any ideas about what we should do?”

She runs a hand through her hair. "I usually run when I'm scared. At or away. Not the best person for this." A huff, and: "We need to know more. That might mean going into my dreams to actually talk to people - I think it's possible when I'm awake, I just don't know how. Or finding some way of spying directly on Gregari, we might be able to steal something of his?"

“Scrying directly on people is feasible in the short term - like for finding out where they are, or in order to catch a few minutes of conversation - but not for anything long-term, you can’t make spells self-sustaining when they have a living target and an actively magical effect. I could set something up to scry on the laundromat full time if I - did something personally distasteful and traumatic but not actually unethical - and I should do that, maybe do the same thing for wherever he lives.” 

"I don't want you to traumatize yourself. I don't even know how much it'd help, or if he'd be able to sense being watched - a lot of people can."

“That’s sweet. I don’t know if we can afford it, but - 

I can do it if you try the and fail with the dream quest thing, I guess, it probably isn’t urgent on the scale of hours.”

"Yeah. I might be able to take you with me, but I don't know the risk factors on that - help won't hurt but having someone who can act out here is good..."

“I set up some wards on this room before you try, just in case, and then we both go?”

"That should do it, yeah. My roommate knows not to go in here..."

“Okay, then, I’ll go ahead and do that -”

Eyes closed, spontaneously appearing instruments of magic, about fifteen seconds of muttering and gesturing and periodically tapping the staff on the floor, no obvious special effects -

“Done.”

"Good." Deep breath. "I think the best way to try this involves meditating. Possibly I should be holding your hand to remind me not to lose you..."

“That works with me.”

She'll guide him to sit across from her on the floor, then, holding his hands and slipping into a meditative trance.

Somewhere in there, the world becomes faintly floaty.

He’s never before been quite so glad to have a magic system which works off of relatively explicable logic, instead of vague intuition and eldritch abominations appearing in laundromats and possibly-hallucinatory dream dimensions.

He goes along with the floatiness, to the extent that he can.

There's a six year old Binamir drawing something very important, tongue sticking between her teeth, little washed out dog at her feet.

Adult Binamir looks around, ignoring her kid self.

The walls of the room aren't very well defined, so it's hard to say where she is.

He follows Bina’s lead in ignoring the mysterious dream child who looks probably-related-to-her.

” - I never asked - do we have an exact plan of attack here, or are we mostly just winging it? Who are we going to talk to, how are we going to talk to them, what are we going to say...”