"That Void is there for a Reason," Jam pointed out. "There are protections on both sides of the Void, I'm sure, and we were recognised by the Prime half and almost rejected by the Mirror half. But like Beren stumbling into Doriath through the Girdle of Melian –"

"Oh god, this is worse than him relating our stuff to Conan Doyle," groaned Baklava.

"Shut up." Jam crossed his arms. "We came through great peril at great need, with a little sprinkle of fate."

"Bullshit," grumbled Baklava.

"Shush! Speaking!" Meringue huffed. "In any case, the White Cats contact the PPC through badfics; they go in and leave notes for their PPC contacts, who are usually purposefully assigned to those fics so they can collect the information. It's risky, but it's the only common ground they have."