It's the first day of Junior year and Idaia's feeling pretty good. She likes her classes so far, it's a beautiful day, and she just has an indescribable positive feeling. Her last class of the day has just let out and she has an entirely tolerable amount of homework.
Her phone rings.
"Hello?"
"It would be nice if we could do some filtering instead of having to settle for whoever we could get."
Fëanáro is a little bit fuzzy around the edges but hugs her distractedly and says he's glad to see her. The twins are flitting around on Elf-scrying missions Maedhros'd sent them. Macalaurë looks as if he hasn't faded at all - looks energized, even, and greets her delightedly.
"I'm glad to see you too," she says to Feanor, and she asks about Elf-scrying missions, and she hugs Macalaure and tells him she hadn't known it was actually him but still bought every one of his albums.
"They reminded me of you, but I figured anything more than that was my own wishful thinking. Also, like. You toning it down now isn't anywhere near as good as you-in-Valinor."
"Sure, I'm not criticizing that particular life choice, it just made it easier for me to tell myself I was just imagining things out of grief."
"Yeah, no kidding. I'd say thank God Imliss was so set on MIT if I had less evidence that any and all relevant deities hate us."
"Except the fact that I'm alive again at all, which I really don't know how to explain."
"I'm really tempted to say 'worth it' but I'm concerned that that would be tempting fate."
"Hi, Carnistir. I apologize for how terrible a large chunk of my species is."
"It's pretty terrible. Most Elves are terrible too, though, so I was prepared mentally for the idea that most people would suck but some of the exceptions would be lovely."
Aaaaah you were supposed to stay away from the subject of his dead spouse and children Idaia!
"What, really?"
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