"Likewise, I read all your notes and I'm jealous - the people -"

"I have pretty amazing people!"

All of whom then introduce themselves. Fëanor wanted ten of him. They have a lot of questions for their alt about magic and then descend into a technical discussion of interdimensional transit. 

"Do you want some fake money to get them all set up -"

And he sets about doing that.

"Elf mom! What's being dead like?"

"Have you all been calling me Elf mom? You have a Maitimo around and you've been calling me Elf mom? Being dead is not like anything, as I imagine you know perfectly well."

"The universe stopped being logical a little while ago."

"It really did, didn't it. Hello," she adds to Cam, scooping up Minor rather effortlessly.

"Hi."

"Thank you."

- the polite thing to say in response to that is "you're welcome" except Cam is obviously not going to say that holy fuck so he just kind of stares at her.

"When we let ourselves think about how it might play out the best case scenarios were - unimaginably worse -"

"...yeah."

"Sorry if you don't want to talk about it -"

"It's - it's okay."

Nod. Minor is squirming. "Sorry, dear, but all my children have been grown up for five hundred years."

"That doesn't mean I want a hug!"

"Would you like to be put down."

"Are you done having an awkward conversation."

"I couldn't say. Are we?" she asks Cam.

(Miranda quietly thinks Minor being picked up is adorable.)

"...Up to you?"

"My children are running around inventing themselves things to fix worlds with, again, instead of prosecuting a hopeless war. There isn't really - enough to say, about that -"

Nod.

He wiggles loose.