There's an amphitheater, a place where a hundred of the stone walkways twine around to create space for a hundred thousand people to sit in close proximity, and someone is giving a lecture or a demonstration at the base of it, the seats closest to him filled with eager, tiny, bearded Dwarf-children.
And they spiral down, and down, and down, past waterfalls and egg-sized gemstones left half in the rock and halls of crystal. Everything grows gradually more ornate and more perfectly maintained and the clang of hammers fades behind them. "People say," her guide says, "that we only have a council instead of a single King because there were nine winners of the competition to design the throne so we couldn't just select one person to sit it." And they push open the doors to reveal, indeed, nine thrones so elaborate it would be hard to choose between them, and nine squat bearded people sitting them.
Yeah. She pushes on till she gets to the Fëanorians; she wants to crash someplace secure with guards. Zoom, song, zoom. Does it work better if she runs two at once?
Maybe she'll ask Macalaurë about that. She dismisses the extra, makes do with one. Eventually lurches into the camp dead on her feet, not having gotten desperate enough to try two sleep skippers in a row in uncontrolled conditions. Her guest room still open?
Taptaptap Sorry for not stopping to do this last night, I was just shy of exhausted enough to try two sleep-skippers in a row.
"I tried using two zoom songs at once insulated from each other and I got erratic results, sometimes one worked and sometimes neither did," she tells Macalaurë.
"Yeah. I might not even bring it up if it hadn't intermittently doubled the effect; makes me wonder if they could be tweaked to stack somehow. Do you want two loops at different speeds to line up various ways and investigate?"
"Ooh. I'll be less conservative with my dosage." She makes him two off-sync zoom song loops and a box for them. "Copy permissions on the oomph song?"