"...can they do that because I am going to be useful in some way, I'm still sort of unclear on that."

"You got summoned by a summoning spell, so as best as I can figure you're a Mythos entity and it is the job of the Mythos Division to deal with you, which in this case means 'explaining to you how the world works and getting you the necessities of life until you're settled in and can fend for yourself' instead of the more usual 'killing.'"

"If you say so."

"If it'd make you feel better I can pay for it out of my own pocket."

"It - makes sense that the organization considers itself responsible for - squaring me away. I just also have no job skills that make sense on this planet if I'm not supposed to use magic in a room that has anyone else in it, and that also makes me a much worse investment for Iomedae's budget."

The day wraps up with minor logistical finagling about things like where Blai is going to spend the night, getting him dinner to replace the Chipotle that he threw up now that there is no more likely nausea impending, and making sure it is legal for him to swap out his spells when he wakes up in that location come dawn. He prays; his spell preparation works normally but obviously Iomedae doesn't communicate anything else. The following morning he mostly spends playing chess with the computer; his ELO as estimated by chess.com climbs by a few hundred points as he gets more concentrated practice than he has ever managed to squeeze in before.

At noon he is supposed to meet with the friendly Yithian and answer five hours of questions about himself and Golarion.