Of course you did. So you ended up with this Fingon character? How'd that go?

He's nice. Kinda homophobic, but apparently the Valar don't like gay people.

Why are so many things about this world intractably terrible?

Because we're used to the intractably terrible things back home and don't notice them as much?

Fair.

So where'd you end up?

A ways outside Maedhros's fortress. That guy is super depressing--and she sends her observations, speculations and received information on Maedhros. Oh, Maedhros is one of Feanor's sons. I haven't yet told him I can maybe ressurrect the dead but not his dad anytime soon, which is a relief for the moment, because he already has enough reasons to be miserable.

Holy shit, that's--augh.

No fucking kidding.

Ask about the Ice.

"Apparently I'm supposed to ask you about 'the Ice'," she says.

Am I going to wish I hadn't?

Hopefully you'll be able to get more information about it than I did.

"In...general? Oh, in reference to why my lord cousin decided to make it known that anyone who resurrects my father would be Inviting Political Complications. They have a long list of grievances with him, and he with them, all of which are four hundred fifty years old but as I said before, if Fingon says there'll be trouble then that, itself, is."

"I believe you. But I do operate best when I have as much information as possible."

Not so far, she sends to her sister with a mental eye-roll.

He sighs. "Then as soon as you have a few hours free to hear the whole story, I'll tell it to you. There isn't a short version between 'there are lots of old grievances' and the full truth that you would be equipped to make any sense of."

"Fair enough. I'll see you tonight, then."

Apparently there's enough to tell that it'll wait till there are a few hours free.

"Enjoy building your spider-dome."

"I honestly don't think there's anything to enjoy about the spider situation," she admits, and sets off.

Fair enough. I can't think of anything else in particular right now, but keep in touch--oh! The eyes! Their eyesight, it's amazing, I copied it, I have glowing silver cat eyes now.

Of course you do, she thinks with fond amusement.

It's so amazing though--this is what the world looks like now, and she sends a smattering of visuals.

That's amazing! she sends after a stunned pause. Okay, fine, I'll do it. At some point. When I can ask someone if I can copy theirs and haven't just annoyed them by asking them to explain their side of a centuries-old grudge.

I mean, what exactly are our alternatives here? The issue isn't going to go away or fail to have consequences just because we want to play nice.

Fucking Morgoth. I wish problems just ceased to exist when their progenitor died, that would be so nice.

We're trying to get the whole story and it kinda feels like we're just annoying everyone,