Cam is lounging in a hanging furniture object that's sort of a cross between a hammock and a chair and leaves plenty of room for the wings and tail, feet up, sipping hot cider, and watching a documentary about the history of the colonization of Luna because he does like to keep current. Ho hum.
A neatly wrapped present, in paper with a curly-swirly rainbow pattern and a shimmering iridescent ribbon, appears hovering in midair in front of Cam in a burst of fast-fading rainbow sparkles.
If he unwraps it, he will discover a framed piece of paper that shows a long list of books by title and author, with little thumbnail images of front covers, and scrolls according to his whim. It is all of the books that currently exist but which he has not yet acquired.
"You are fantastic, the entire multiverse just got absurdly lucky, and I'm not going to be nearly as busy here in Limbo as I thought, am I?"
"Limbo-ites can't make stuff, they're basically stuck with whatever they land with, and it's one 'thing' to a customer - sometimes a medium-sized or large thing, but they can't move them or tweak them or add to them. It's not terrible, but it's certainly not the casual excess of Hell or Heaven or as interesting as Fairyland."
On a whim, he appears for Cam a book containing all of the prayers he has answered here so far. There's a lot of blank space in the book currently, but it's got a solid chunk of pages filled in at the start. It has his name in Draconic on the front, even though no one in this world can read it, because why not?
"Draconic. It's magic, it's from the world I was just in; that symbol says 'Teah', which means 'miracle' roughly speaking, but written as a name and not just a word. The inside's all English, though. Funny, your world has a lot of the same languages as the one I'm from originally. Same Earth, too, just with some details different."
"A whole huge bunch of surface shit - none of the same exact people - a little older, too, looks like your Earth's got a few hundred years on mine. And of course until five minutes ago there wasn't any of my magic going around. I wonder when people are gonna start sweating about how to announce me?"
"I'm already thinking about how to tell Limbo what the deal is. People who summon me usually don't let me talk, so I guess the live humans will have to figure that out themselves unless you're making more friends."
"That sounds inconvenient," he says. A slight pause, and then, "...There's no such actual thing as a soul that demons can do a damn thing to, why hasn't anyone figured that out?"
Cam laughs. "Because no one lets me talk! I don't know, some demons think it's funny and the others haven't got a chance to blow their charade."
"Do you wanna just be able to talk anyway," he says, "seems like it would be convenient but maybe it'd just freak people out? Still working on giving you free travel between worlds, by the way. They move around, it's tricky. I can do one-time moves no problem; making a magic power for it is a whole different jar of candy."
"I'm pretty sure if I started talking to somebody who'd put a gag in their circle they'd flip and abandon the summon and then what would I do?"
A few seconds of silence, then,
"Now seems as good a time as any to mention - my body doesn't really need maintenance, I figured out how to make it self-sufficient like it is, but I might want to kill it eventually because if I do that I reincarnate in a local body and then I get to stay here pretty much permanently. But if you don't wanna be involved with that I can probably find another prayer to sneak it into. I don't wanna do it right away, though, because I'll be back to only getting out while the new body sleeps, and I wanna have some time to settle in first without being offline most of the day."
"Debatably permanent. Technically if my extremely immortal dragon buddy back in Elcenia dies or decides to break the send for some reason, I pop back there right away and can't get here again on my own. In practice he's not gonna do either, but I still like to settle in properly. And I get kind of antsy if I go too long without some downtime. It's a problem."
"Oh, he still has one of me with him! I'm a copy. I figured out how to do that. That's why the random sending. Teahs, Teahs everywhere! It's hard to coordinate two of me in the same world for longer than a few minutes, though. One of me's going to try it eventually somewhere, but probably somewhere a little quieter than here."
"Okay, this sounds - pretty great actually, I approve of the scope of your plans, presuming you are not actually a bad god pretending to be a super awesome god."
"Means I'm probably not what you'd expect from a bad god, but I might not be what you'd expect from a good one, either. Read the book if you wanna get a sense. Read this one, too, even - " and a burst of rainbow sparkles and a copy of the prayer record for his first couple of weeks in Elcenia, with 'Teah' and 'Elcenia' on the cover in Draconic. It's pretty thick, even though he's condensed a lot of the less memorable prayers into 'X hundred children given nice safe candy or toys' or 'conversation with Kaylo about Y, Z'. Part of the extra is all the notes explaining (somewhat tersely, but comprehensibly) things like what a hearer is and the problem with shrens.
"You don't seem to be quite omnipotent in the sense of being able to achieve any named result, but you're otherwise looking pretty close to a good god and I'm not sure why you're drawing a careful distinction."
"Expectations. I'd rather let what I do speak for itself than try to figure out what exactly you mean by a good god and see if I fit the bill or not. Different people can have very different definitions of good, and I sure don't fit all of them."