Micolash straightens up in his seat again, stiffening, folding one arm against his stomach, the hand curled into a fidgeting fist. The furtive jabs about the Brain and its origins cause the professor to grow prickly, speaking now in a haughtier voice, "No others of its nature because no one else has come as close as I have. Misbegotten and failed, it is still a legitimate Great One. One created where one was not before. A remarkable accomplishment. I will brook no chastisement from those who do not understand the greater scope of its circumstances. Or mine."

He finally turns his head to look away sidelong, that hand clenched into a fist now fiddling with the bunched, rolled-up portion of the other arm's sleeve at his elbow. "His influence is fleeting and His reach is limited. I would not doubt Formless Oedon could find his way to this Dream, but I would not understand the why. There is no chapel dedicated to Him, nor the Old Blood to guide Him, save what remains in my own veins. And the ones he chose are usually...marked well before the time comes for the conception. His runes are...furtive. Secretive. Most who hold them never know they do. I could always take a closer look at the young lady to see if she bears one..." Though he's not so sure he'll be given that allowance, going on how cagey (no pun intended) Caspar is being, coupled with Adia's apparent avoidance.