She turns the screen around to show him.

"That's the setting on all Tyelcormo's stuff, do you not look over each others' shoulders much?"

"Most of his stuff doesn't have writing!"

"Well, that's his alphabet. Because my father doesn't have the concept of overkill and took his son's dyslexia personally."

"That's awesome."

"I'm surprised he wrote that much, though. He doesn't write much even with his alphabet."

"...That's. Not his. I was conjuring posthumous works in such a way as to specifically exclude Elves-out-of-Mandos, and.

That's. My handwriting."

"What?"

"Yeah, this makes no sense, but--" she conjures another storage device. She pores through the contents. "Tyelcormo--the not-space one--if you bolt through that door right now and don't hold it I can't get any of your brothers for de-oathing and my sister can't retrieve the Silmarils right now. But, um--you should. Maybe read some of this."

It is, coincidentally enough, a letter. To him.

I know you're probably never going to read this, but--it begins, and proceeds to outline the events of the past few weeks, including various events at school, social activities with her apparently-rather-small circle of actual friends, and the distribution of pork to a significant fraction of the college. It is peppered with inconsistently-coherent endearments, and at the end mentions that she still doesn't know how the fuck she reincarnated but maybe if that was going to happen it spoke well for her prospects of someday being able to rescue everyone from Mandos. She hopes.

"Go and find her."

"I'm working on it!" To Cam: "So I'm not sure he's psychologically capable of cooperating with plans that don't involve grabbing her as fast as possible, would you be willing to get his Maitimo while I get his me?"

"My summoner's thoroughly challenging to access so stranding me would be bad. Could remote pilot it?"

"Okay. Emily and I will go through, I'll take off for...California, apparently...she'll call Maitimo and you can pilot the drone to pick him up? And then she'll go retrieve shiny rocks."

"Sure."

"Great. And we should probably find another doorstop, too, in case this one has trouble handling the job once his formerly-dead girlfriend is within hugging distance."

"There might be somebody who can roll with weird things and easily bribed within reasonable distance of the door."

"Finding someone who can roll with weird things seems like it would involve going through some people who can't."

"Potentially, yes. I suspect most people would take reasonably well to 'I will give you this suitcase full of cash to hold this door for a few hours'? And this probably isn't the time to worry about counterfeiting?"

"Some people have perfectly valid principles against accepting counterfeit cash, though, and I'd rather not violate those without their knowledge or consent...valuable objects might be a better bet. Point taken, though."

"Pretty jewelry," suggests Cam. "Although that was surprisingly hard to hock for its value even pre-Revelation."

"Worth a try, anyway--oh, are we going to have to take off our wings, that sounds like a thing."

"I made mine without nerves in the joints but they also go reasonably discreetly under a coat, I dunno about your model."

"I was prioritizing function over discretion. Oh well, there's an angel here."